


The Whole of the Storm

by TorMist



Series: My Prince, My King [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Dark Thor (Marvel), Eventual Thor Whump, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loki Whump, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sakaar (Marvel), Sexual Coercion, Thorki - Freeform, Top Thor (Marvel), Topping from the Bottom, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 77,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorMist/pseuds/TorMist
Summary: In this Thor AU, post the events of I Serve, Loki has found himself alone on Sakaar, unsure of the location of Thor and their companions. The Grandmaster of Sakaar invites him to the Arena where Loki discovers Thor is now a gladiator in the Contest of Champions. Loki's relief at Thor's survival turns to horror as he realises that Thor does not remember himself, or more importantly to Loki, does not remember Loki. Amnesiac brute that Thor now is, he still wants Loki, no matter Loki's feelings on the matter. And Thor always gets what he wants.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Series: My Prince, My King [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547479
Comments: 123
Kudos: 271





	1. Get Your Party Face On

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

Loki just wanted out. Three, or was it four days here, and he just wanted out of the seemingly endless parties and festivities which stank of desperation and hopelessness. He wanted to find Thor (and Sif and the Warriors Three, because Thor would probably insist), and then he wanted out. He was already bored with this place, this Sakaar. It was unpredictable and dangerous, and, unlike himself, not in a good way. 

He was bored with days of flirting and of listening attentively and laughing charmingly. Of faking genuine smiles of interest and telling amusing stories while discreetly asking about other new arrivals to Sakaar that might resemble Thor or the others, on how to escape this place. These were dangerous questions, disguised (he hoped) as party chatter and banter. He had stolen the codes to the Grandmaster's fleet and thought he might have an exit plan -through the Anus- but did not wish to leave without his love and their companions if he could help it.

It was entirely possible that they had made their way back to the Nine Realms already and awaited him, or had never arrived here at all, or were simply scattered to the twelve winds and struggling to find their way, but he had no way of knowing. That did worry him a little, he might pretend to Thor, to them and to himself that Sif and the Three were simply appendages of Thor that he had to put up with, but in truth, he was fond of them all.

The Grandmaster had yet to pay him any heed, thanks to Loki's natural ability to read a room and avoid the whirling black hole of barely concealed anxiety and forced mirth that indicated where their host was holding forth at any given moment. But Loki knew that eventually he would come face to face with the madman whose planet this was. A planet where a miasma of control and power and cruelty swirled all the time, capturing unfortunates, the ambitious, and the ill-intentioned alike in its merciless eddies and vortices. 

Loki had reluctantly come to the conclusion that Thor could not be here. He was constitutionally incapable of tolerating such a place. Loki would have heard of the eruption of Thor's temper by now, his righteous anger at the existence of this carbuncle of a planet.

But all was relatively quiet on Sakaar in terms of pugnacious thunder gods. And even in the unlikely event of Thor forcing himself to lay low, Loki would probably have found some trace of him by now. Most likely, he and the others had either landed elsewhere or managed to get off-planet almost immediately. The first option was the most likely, the second less so as they would not have abandoned him willingly. Loki refused to contemplate a third option, an option where Thor was...

Thor was safe, Loki was sure of it. Just elsewhere. 

Blast it. Loki realised that he was in the Grandmaster's line of sight a few seconds too late. He felt eyes on him, an unsettling gaze, so he took a deep breath and turned casually, half-smiling. As he caught the Grandmaster's eye, he raised his untouched goblet in acknowledgement and turned up the smile a little more. The Grandmaster leaned back, appraising him, smiling a relaxed, almost pleasant smile. Loki could smell the predator, though. 

A split second is all he had to consider his approach. If he and Thor had been in this together, Thor would have wanted to confront the Grandmaster directly and immediately, but Loki would have insisted on thinking through a strategy, pooling their knowledge of this Grandmaster, and coming up with ways to engage. Loki would have probably have thrown all that out the window once the thrill of the game began of course, but here and now with the Grandmaster's capricious gaze on him, he did wish he had such strategies to consider.

He shrugged and forgot his anxieties as his feet moved without his really thinking about it. Loki found himself smiling properly. He did enjoy dancing on the edge of disaster sometimes. Let's see where a dance with this devil would lead. For both of them.

After all, Loki was the god of mischief, and nor was he to be trifled with. 

"Aren't you a pretty thing," drawled the Grandmaster as Loki approached. "Come into my parlour, my dear, dear boy."

Loki positively glowed at this opening shot, this plain challenge to his nerve. He gave a shallow bow. "I am honoured, Grandmaster. How may I be of service to you this evening?"

"Direct, so direct, my my." The Grandmaster fluttered a little, also delighted. He moved so he was a little closer than would be comfortable if Loki cared about such power plays. Some bedsport, is this what the Grandmaster wanted? Loki resisted rolling his eyes. He had no interest in bedsports with this repellent perfumed and painted creature, but if he could not talk his way out of it, he would, ha, suck it up and see what he could learn or steal from the experience. If the Grandmaster preferred his own rooms, it might even be worth bending over to get such access. What arcane treasures might Loki find there? Possibly only himself, but that was part of the gamble.

Loki raised his goblet to his lips and took a barely suggestive sip, watching as the Grandmaster's eyes followed the movement of Loki's mouth, his tongue as it darted out to flick across his lips, and then Loki smiled a knowing smile.

Thor would probably be furious with him once he found out, but Loki would soothe his anger any way that Thor wanted.

He saw the mad glint in the Grandmaster's eyes as they crinkled in a pleased response to Loki's partaking in the game. A spidery hand ran down Loki’s arm, not quite possessively, but definitely pushing a boundary. "You will accompany me to the Grand Arena later, yes, yes you will! Your gift to me for my hospitality. My newest champion fights tonight, he is a joy, a treasure, a feast for the senses and an unstoppable force! So pretty, too. Oh, I do hope he lasts." 

Loki, still smiling, replied, "I would be honoured to escort you, Grandmaster. Your champion, I hear he is newly arrived."

"Here but a short fortnight, my new young friend. And he shows no sign of stopping. I adore him. You will too!"

Two weeks. Too long here to be Thor. Loki had asked about new arrivals at the Grandmaster's private circuses but none bearing any similarity to Thor had arrived in the last few days like Loki had. Well. It was definitely time to finish his search. It had yielded no sign of Thor, and now that the Grandmaster had him on his radar, Loki would have to cut and run at the next opportunity. 

He would enjoy the challenge of the Grandmaster's quirks and attempts to play him, but it was a game Loki would probably lose, fast and unexpectedly and terminally. Another time he would have considered it a fun if deadly gamble, but really, all he wanted was to find and be with Thor. 

If he cultivated a loquacious mood in the Grandmaster, Loki might find out more about where Thor could have ended up other than Sakaar. Fine. He would hang on the Grandmaster's arm for as long as it was useful to do so, and hopefully by the coming early morning would be well on his way from this place, slightly wiser and ...richer in experience.

To his surprise, the Grandmaster did not bore Loki as much as he had expected. The man had a turn of phrase that was amusing, and a way of seeing the world that was frankly insane but fascinating nonetheless. Loki did not have to feign interest for much of the hour or so he spent being shown off by his host, although his awareness of the Grandmaster's unthinking, whimsical cruelty kept him somewhat on edge. 

Loki made interested noises at appropriate points in the conversation as the Grandmaster escorted him to his viewing balcony. Loki had not actually seen any of the contests yet, as slave fights struck him as distasteful, but he thought of it as part of the price he had to pay tonight to escape with a whole, if not unmolested, skin. The Grandmaster's hand was warm on Loki’s thigh as they sat side-by-side, the thunderous pounding roar of an excited crowd growing louder in anticipation of the main event of the evening. 

The Grandmaster stood up to announce the main event. Loki did not listen closely to the Grandmaster's preamble to the fight; he thought if he paid too much attention, the barbaric nature of the entertainments would interfere with his peace of mind. He was already playing a dangerous game, and he could not afford to get distracted.

So he paid no heed to the unfortunates who were introduced as the challengers, two doughty dwarves who looked grimly prepared to face the worst. He was discreetly observing the toadies and servants that surrounded the Grandmaster, wondering which of them might be prepared to betray or undermine their master, and for what reward. 

Loki heard the Champion being introduced, the Grandmaster's voice being almost overwhelmed by the cheer of the crowd. Thor might have enjoyed this spectacle, if the fighters were not here under duress. Loki heard the rumble of a portcullis being withdrawn to reveal the hero of the hour. He vaguely wondered what manner of a creature this was going to be. No doubt a brute who was content to maul and kill so long as he had the Grandmaster's favour, with no concern for his victims.

He was paying only half-attention when the Grandmaster started to lovingly describe his prize performer; a matchless warrior, apparently, a beautiful, fair haired beast with a fierce heart and a strong arm, a terror, a brute, and a fearless destroyer of his enemies.

Afterwards, when Loki thought about it, he could not remember clearly if he realised _before_ he looked square at the Champion that it was, in fact, Thor.

It seemed to him that his eyes had drifted over to the large, well-muscled figure wielding a mace and shield simply to confirm the fact of who it was. 

He did not remember registering shock or surprise at seeing his love standing there, helmeted and armoured, cape clasped to one side, battle paint smeared down one side of his face which was marred by a feral snarl. Who did that for him? He had better not have let anyone else touch him.

Loki remembered scrambling to his feet, the Grandmaster's hand falling from his lap where it had begun to explore, and shouting Thor's name as the bellowing of the delirious crowd swallowed all other noise. 


	2. Chained Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki, reeling from the shock of finding Thor on Sakaar, tries to figure out a way to get them both away safely while an amnesiac Thor, and to a lesser extent the Grandmaster, sniff around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

Loki wasn't sure that he had been terribly convincing in his explanation as to why he had become so agitated when the Champion had appeared.

"I'm just a huge fan of the sport," he had said, smiling reassuringly at his host.

He was fairly sure that his roaring of Thor's name had been swallowed by the noise of the crowds hailing the appearance of their hero. Their hero who was beating to a pulp the two poor dwarves standing against him in the Arena in short order, no quarter, no mercy given. Loki watched, fascinated, horrified. It felt like looking at a stranger in a way, yet one with whom he was all too familiar.

He had seen this Thor before. He had faced him on the battlefield, fought with seidr and strategy the merciless and cruel brute who treated those who stood against him as obstacles, things to be disposed of. Or used.

Standing with a drink in his hand at the victory celebration, he shuddered. Now he apparently faced that Thor again, except across a crowded party floor instead. The Grandmaster had been pleased enough, or intrigued enough, or suspicious enough, to invite Loki to his Champion's victory celebration, a nightly event from what Loki understood. Loki wasn't sure how convincing his party-face was this time either, caught as he was between the Grandmaster's attentions and absolute uncertainty about how to approach Thor.

The Grandmaster insisted on introducing them as soon as Thor arrived from the Arena after his victory lap. Thor had stood in the centre of the Arena with one foot on the bodies of his victims, exulting in his dominance of his enemies, spoiling for another fight. Loki realised that he had not in fact ever seen _this_ Thor, though he had heard tell that before being sent to Midgard by his father to be shaped and tempered, the son of Odin had been ill-tempered, confrontational and combative.

Whoever it was standing now in front of Loki, golden and bloodied, muscular and armoured, blond hair shorn, and with a streak of warpaint on his face barely distinguishable from the blood of his victims, it was not Loki's Thor. Nevertheless, he regarded Loki in a way that felt familiar; a blue-eyed gaze raking him up and down, lust igniting in his look, a weighing, considering intensity that Loki wanted to bask in, only for the sense that his skin was crawling at the wrongness of it all.

Thor did not know who he was. Loki was sure of this. He could read Thor like an open book; Thor never bothered hiding anything anyway and Loki knew every quirk and nuance of his body language besides. There was no recognition in Thor's eyes, nothing in his stance that indicated any camaraderie or intimacy between them. Loki had smiled politely and admired the Grandmaster's wonderful acquisition, too distracted by the surrealism of the experience to properly pay attention to the Grandmaster's reaction.

Loki hoped he had appeared appropriately complimentary, but detached. He had a feeling that if any affinity between he and Thor were suspected, the Grandmaster would dispose of Loki very quickly to protect his investment, or perhaps even out of jealousy. He had watched the Grandmaster parade Thor around the room, hanging on his elbow, whispering in his ear, a possessive hand hovering at the small of Thor's back, beaming pride and covetousness at everyone to whom he showed off his Champion.

Thor had glanced back at Loki once, as if checking he was still there, or perhaps feeling Loki's stare on the back of his head. He had an unreadable expression on his face. Loki had schooled his own expression and raised a glass to Thor, flashing a non-committal smile, and then deliberately turned to speak to other party guests who had been trying to get his attention all the while.

Now they were on opposite sides of the room, Thor seated with a pretty sycophant on either side looking at him adoringly, and Loki standing and making small talk with his own companions. Loki watched Thor carefully from the corner of his eye while making assenting noises to keep his side of what could be loosely called a conversation going. He could tell that Thor was paying no mind to anyone else but to Loki, and had been looking at him, and only him, for some time.

Loki had decided it was too risky to approach Thor himself, unless the Grandmaster steered him over to Thor again or vice versa, and that was useless anyway as they would not be able to speak freely. Thor might approach him, in which case Loki would have to walk a very careful path between keeping Thor's interest and not upsetting the Grandmaster. Or he could wait until Thor was returned to his pen, or wherever he was being housed, and Loki could follow invisibly and then speak to him, presumably privately. Unless Thor decided to take some company to bed for the night, or...perhaps in addition to being the Grandmaster's Champion, Thor might have other duties. Loki found this idea deeply enraging.

Loki had to keep perspective here. Thor's dignity would survive playing the stud for some degenerates. As if there was any worse form of enslavement than being forced to maim and kill. Loki knew more about this than he would wish. 

Loki dismissed the possibility of Thor having 'night duties' as important only in terms of whether he could speak to Thor alone or not tonight. He wondered what the chances were of him simply knocking Thor out, and stealing him away in a ship. Undoing whatever damage had been done to Thor's mind or memory would surely be easier if they were far away from Sakaar.

He wished that they were in the Nine Realms. He could simply grab Thor and skywalk away, dropping him into the arms of their friends. Where were their friends, anyway? It was clear something had gone terribly wrong with their journey through the Bifrost. Something had knocked them off course; Loki had seen a dark shape brush by Thor and knock Mjolnir from his grasp before Loki too was pushed out of the stream of myriad light.

Thor had been hit first; perhaps this is why he appeared to have landed in this Norns-forsaken trash pile days before Loki had. Perhaps Sif and the Warriors Three were still in some kind of limbo somewhere and would arrive soon also.

Loki decided that the best approach was to get Thor alone as soon as it was safe or at least discreetly possible to do so.

Thor was still looking at him, and Loki could not help but be very aware of that blue-eyed gaze even while he affected to be ignorant of it. He could feel it still when people momentarily blocked Thor's view of him as the party eddied and swirled around and between them.

Suddenly, Thor was moving towards him. Thor had stood up, ignored the fawning beauties who stretched out their arms to him imploringly, and was striding purposefully towards Loki. A path opened up in front of Thor as people unconsciously sensed his impending passage, and Loki could not help but allow his gaze to be drawn to him as he approached, large and golden and dangerous and more unpredictable than Loki had ever known him. Loki could only hope that the fear he felt as Thor bore down on him was not wholly obvious on his face.

Every step Thor took stretched out in time, but all too quickly he stood in front of Loki. The endless stream of chatter from Loki's companions fell silent. Loki looked at Thor, searched his face, but still saw nothing but a disinterested lust, a desire that was impersonal, dispassionate. Thor did not care at all who Loki might be. But something in him recognised Loki, surely. Why else would he be so drawn to him?

Thor cupped Loki's cheek with a warm, familiar large hand, and stroked a thumb along his cheekbone. He hummed, his eyes wandering all over Loki's face, as if memorising it. Still, no spark of recognition lit Thor's expression, which showed clear detachment about whose face he held with his hands and his eyes.

Loki's body still resonated in response, in want, when Thor spoke, the first words he had spoke that night that Loki had heard.

"You will accompany me, sorcerer, to my quarters tonight."

It was not a question. Loki glanced at the Grandmaster, who was watching nearby, blatantly ignoring his flatterers as he smiled indulgently at Thor and Loki.

Well. This is what he wanted after all, was it not?

Donning as cocky an attitude as he could muster, Loki smiled winningly and replied, "To the victor, the spoils."

He put down his glass and allowed Thor to guide him from the party.


	3. The Champion At Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki accompanies Thor back to his quarters, and discovers some similarities between his Thor and the Grandmaster's Champion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

Thor did not speak to Loki, nor Loki to Thor, on the walk back to Thor's quarters. Loki felt Thor glance at him once, but he only touched to guide him at corners.

The quarters were comfortable and spacious, but betrayed none of Thor's own aesthetic or his preferred comforts. It was completely anonymous, the apartments of a visiting dignitary. Loki took some comfort in that. As soon as they entered, Thor gestured to a seat facing a window with a view of Sakaar and its restive skies, dotted with wormholes. Loki wondered what poor devils would find themselves falling from them that day to this planet that forced so many to become detritus, and worse.

"Sit, and drink, if you wish." Thor waved Loki towards the seat by the window. He was already moving towards the bath that took up much of the top end of the room, stripping from his bloodied battle clothing. Loki decided to sit by him as he bathed instead.

Lowering himself into the water, Thor watched Loki settle beside the bath. Loki chose to sit on a cushion not for comfort, but so his sitting stance would allow him to move more quickly than if he sat cross-legged or flush on the floor.

Thor hummed. "Enjoying the view, sorcerer?"

Loki watched him too with what he knew was an appreciative look. "Always. Even bloodied and barbaric as you look now. Do you know who I am, Thor?" He already knew the answer. But he needed to ask it so he could follow up with a more pertinent question.

Thor looked at him, disinterested, soaping his body. "Have I fucked you already? I am sure I would remember."

Loki winced. Thor meant no insult, he thought, but his complete lack of grace was further evidence of how far this Thor was from his Thunderer.

"Thor. Do you know who _you_ are?"

Loki would have expected a smug, fond smile from his prince, one designed to amuse and annoy Loki at the same time, conveying exactly how pleased with himself Thor was. Instead, the smile Loki got was unsettlingly derisive, Thor's blue eyes ice cold and disinterested as he stood and scraped himself clean with a strigil.

"Ah. You claim to know me from before, my pretty friend? You are not my usual type, I suppose, but I can't say with certainty what my type has been until recently. Enlighten me. Who do you think I am, and who are you to me?"

_I am yours. Your sorcerer. Your Loki. And you...are my everything._

"Thor, you are...Thor. God of Thunder. Wielder of Mjolnir. Odinson. King of Asgard and Defender of the Nine Realms. And...my friend."

Loki did not like the knowing look he was receiving from Thor at his words.

"I see," said Thor. "All these wondrous titles, and your friend. Were we more than friends, sorcerer? Tell me, I am intrigued."

Loki hesitated.

"I...we are close, Thor. We got separated as we were returning to your home, your realm, and I have been worried for you. It is a surprise to find you in these circumstances, but I am relieved. You are being treated well, I see."

"I am Champion. Anything I wish for, I need only say for it to appear for my use. And I wish for you tonight, sorcerer, friend or no."

Thor walked back up the steps of the bath, towering over Loki who himself rose, not too quickly, but smoothly and with an eye to dancing out of reach if Thor made to grab at him.

Loki knew he had to play this very carefully. He did not know how much of his Thor was controlling this half-savage brute right then; he guessed very little. To suggest that they leave together, that they begin to plan a way home, might lead to disaster. If Thor had any loyalty to the Grandmaster, or if he was simply happy to stay in this place where his base appetites for fighting, food and fucking were being well met, Loki might be broken by him and thrown aside with barely a thought.

Thor stood facing Loki, damp and with a towel around his waist. Loki readied himself to ask Thor...he knew not what. He needed more time to think of a strategy. Before he could do anything else, he felt Thor's strong arm around his waist, he was pulled against the Thunderer's chest, and Thor was kissing him.

Loki was purely shocked, though the part of him that was still objectively watching proceedings scolded him that he should have expected it, or the like, under the circumstances. It was an urgent, taking kiss, sweetly familiar, as demanding a kiss as Loki had ever received.

He instinctively kissed back, briefly elated and relieved to be in Thor's arms again, safe and wanted. That alert, watching part of himself was shouting caution, safety lay not in these arms, but he ignored it in favour of being lost in what he so very desperately needed.

He should have listened to his inner watcher. He had left himself open to the mercy of a powerful warrior who had yet to display any.

Thor walked him backwards towards the bed, so Loki had to cling on to him and match his steps or fall on his ass, while Thor's deft fingers undid the ties of his tunic. Loki found himself being roughly stripped as he struggled to regain his balance and before he knew it, he was pushed back on to Thor's large bed, half naked on top, Thor quickly following, his already stiffening cock making itself known through his towel and Loki's leather breeches.

Loki broke the kiss to try to reclaim his equilibrium, gasping as Thor trailed kisses and bites down his neck and naked shoulder and chest. He felt Thor's strong hands trail down his back from his shoulders to his hips, where he grasped Loki's rear and made an approving noise.

"Wait!" Loki tried to stop Thor from opening and pulling down his breeches as Loki's mind whirled, at war with himself. He wanted sex with Thor, wanted the intimacy, the reassurance, the sense of being held and possessed and protected and loved. He needed it. But he also needed to be careful, to manage this situation, to not throw away an opportunity to get both himself and his love away from here and out of danger.

If he allowed Thor to take him now, this would not be making love, or carry any of the mutual joy of pleasing a beloved partner, nor would it even be a casual fuck between friends. This would be Thor using him to cement his place on Sakaar, as he probably did with a forgettable pretty each night. No doubt the Champion spent his evenings winning fights, feasting with toadies and leeches, and then fucking whomever caught his eye for the night. If Loki acquiesced, he ran the risk of being cast aside come the morning, or even sooner, and might struggle to get a private audience with 'the Champion' again.

But if he refused...would Thor acknowledge the refusal? If Thor did decide to disregard Loki's wishes and coerce, Loki might have no choice but to comply, to ensure his and Thor's safety in the long run. What would that mean for Loki? For he and Thor together? He could not bear the thought of Thor forcing himself on Loki...again. He probably would not hurt Loki, not physically, not more than he thought necessary to ensure compliance, but for Loki, the violation, bodily and emotionally, would wound deeply.

" _Stop._ " He grasped each of Thor's wrists to still them, as the Thunderer raised his head in query at Loki's insistent tone from where he had been about to dip between Loki's legs to his almost exposed cock. He did not look happy.

"What is it, sorcerer? Did you think I brought you back here for an existential discussion of who I am or might be or what I am to you? I brought you here to _fuck_. If you object now, you have wasted my time and I will not be happy with you." He moved back out of Loki's space and knelt on the bed, waiting.

Loki could feel his heart hammering in his chest. "I do not object, Thunderer. I just wish to...to be sure that we will talk again. Promise to break your fast with me in the morning, privately. I understand you may have no wish to look into the past, and have carved out your place here to your desire, but please, grant me just a little more time in your company so I can remember my friend, whom I may not see again after this."

Thor frowned. "Very well, little Frost Giant. I will accompany you to breakfast tomorrow. Now, remove your clothes. I will have you on your back, I think. You had better be worth the trouble."

Loki grinned, suddenly feeling more enthusiastic. Little Frost Giant, hmmm? His Thor really did still lurk within, it would seem. "I certainly am worth the trouble, Thunderer. At least you used to think so before. Though you had cause to rethink that opinion on many occasions. Luckily for me, you are at least half as intelligent as you are handsome, and always concluded in my favour."

He started to strip, not noticing that Thor had gone quiet. Finally nude, he prepared to lie on his back, and looked at Thor, who he had expected to be enjoying the tease he had put into his strip.

Instead he saw a piercing look that filled him with dread.

Still kneeling across the bed from him, towel around his waist, Thor somehow loomed. He reached out a surprisingly gentle hand towards Loki, gesturing at him to come and accept the embrace. Loki did so hesitantly, and Thor again cupped his face, appearing to drink in his features. Loki closed his eyes for a moment, to give his mind a moment of respite from its frenzied whirling in how to deal with this, to lean into Thor's touch, pretend that it was his prince that was touching him so affectionately and not a feral stranger who had stolen the face of his love.

He opened his eyes again to see Thor's penetrating gaze reading his every emotion.

"You lie, sorcerer."

Loki went still.

Thor continued, in a musing tone. "You lie. We are not merely 'close', as you claim. No. You love me."

Loki smiled. "You see well, Thunderer. I lie, and I love you. That is who I am."

Thor's expression remained considering, appraising. Then it hardened, and suddenly, Loki found himself face down on the bed, Thor's weight on him, and had a brief moment of panic as he fought to right himself so he could at least breathe. 

Thor spoke in a low voice, intent and full of anger. "I know not who this 'Thunderer' is that you speak of, sorcerer; do not mention him to me again. Call me Thor if you like, I care not for it though I suppose it is as good as any other name. But my title is _Champion_. If I hear you say the other, you will be the worse for it. Do you understand?"

Loki nodded frantically insofar as he could move his head. Thor had him pinned to the bed with one hand on the back of his neck and other on his lower back. "Yes, I understand...Thor. I understand." He could not let Thor think him completely cowed, even though he was near frightened out of his skin. He would not call him Champion, not yet. 

There would be a moment where it would be more useful to bend, but now was not it. Now, ha, he just had to be pliant and agreeable and spread his legs for the Champion, because in all the ways that mattered, he had no choice. He wished he did not already know how that felt.

Thor released him, though Loki lay there, trying to calm his breathing. Thor too was trying to recover himself. There was a clue there surely.

Thor initially seemed bored when Loki spoke of who he had been, but then turned angry when Loki had spoken of how they felt for each other. He had known somehow that Loki was a sorcerer, and a Frost Giant too, for all that Loki walked tonight in Aes form. He knew, on some level, who Loki was, who they were together, but he resisted knowing. What manner of an influence was he under?

Loki lifted himself on his elbows, slowly, not wanting to poke the beast again with a sudden or presumptuous movement. He slowly got to his knees so he was on all fours, and then sat back on his heels, looking over his shoulder to meet Thor's eye, nervous of what he might find there.

Thor was staring at his back. Hope sparked in Loki that Thor might recognise the scar that spanned it, shoulder to hip, shaped like a lightning bolt, that had been gifted to him by the god of thunder that last time they had faced each other across the battlefield. His Thor was fascinated by it, had kissed, licked and bitten his way down it passionately, had scratched it lazily, and had come copiously across it (and no doubt _because_ of it) many times. Thor's mark on him.

Loki would have rid himself of it a long time ago, but at first he had found he could not because it would have displeased Thor, who had at that time enslaved him. As Loki's master, Thor had never instructed him in the matter of the scar, but had made his pleasure with it clear, and Loki had been compelled by the slave bond to avoid displeasing his master. So the scar had stayed.

Afterwards, when Loki was his own again, and Thor virtually prostrate at his feet in sorrow and regret for his crimes against Loki and his people, Loki had decided to keep it. The past could not be wiped out easily, so the scar stayed. Thor and Loki's union was one that had sprung from pain as well as in love, and so the scar stayed. And Thor took a perverse and visceral pleasure in it still...and so the scar stayed.

It angered Loki that Thor thrilled in such a thing, despite its symbolism, despite its existence as tangible evidence of Loki's defeat and submission, but Loki could not deny Thor even in this.

His usual annoyance at Thor's reliving of his victory over Loki every time Thor stroked the proof scored across Loki's own back was relieved by the thought that perhaps that scar might now act as a map for his Thor to follow home, where ever he had gone in his mind. 

Instead, to Loki's disappointment, Thor said, "You are bruised, sorcerer, on your back, and rear. And your wrists. Rope marks. Faint, but still there. Who beat you?"

Loki waited for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "You did...Thor. It was a game. One we both played." He groaned as Thor pressed down on a bruise experimentally. Thor was kneeling so that he was facing Loki's side, and had a clear view of Loki's face as he grimaced in pain. 

Thor surprised Loki a second time with a kiss, one hand turning Loki's face towards his, one positively groping the fading bruises on Loki's backside.

Loki's heart was not in this but his cock was beginning to have other ideas. Thor was kissing with little skill, as near devouring Loki as was possible; rough, clumsy, strangely needy. He slipped a large hand from Loki's face down to Loki's half hard cock, breaking the kiss to watch Loki's expression as he began to pump his cock and continued to roughly handle his backside. The bruises were a few days old but sore still, and all the more sore for being manhandled now.

Loki shifted so he was able to wrap his arms around Thor, initiating another kiss and trying to finesse Thor's technique somewhat. This was good, Thor was looking him in the eyes as they came up for air.

It was good too that Thor's attentions to him were paying dividends as Loki began to lose himself in the sensations that Thor's hands were drawing from him. He wondered how he looked to Thor; he felt as if the pain and pleasure was surely evident in his face and in his eyes, a familiar expression to Thor if it could only reach him deep down wherever he was within this brute.

As if the brute could read his mind, Loki found himself once again roughly flung belly-down on the bed, Thor's hardworking hands suddenly taken from him. He dared not move as he heard Thor reach for something, oil, he presumed, and was proven right as an unpleasantly sweet odour wafted from behind him. Very Sakaarian. He felt Thor carelessly spill some oil along the valley between his cheeks and a large finger start to stroke along the delicate flesh there, circling his hole, not gently.

"I thought...I thought you wanted me on my back," Loki said, not wanting to lose the opportunity for eye contact.

"I've changed my mind, sorcerer. I am not in a gaming mood. I will take my pleasure and we will eat together alone in the morning, as agreed. Unless you wish to call off our agreement." A thick finger breached Loki, and he gasped at the intrusion.

"Our agreement stands, Th...Thor," Loki replied, just catching himself before he spoke Thor's by-name. Thor clearly heard what was unspoken, and a second finger joined the first abruptly. Loki grunted with discomfort. It was going to be a long and difficult night, he could tell.


	4. The Champion Unleashed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

Loki thought that Thor was now being deliberately rough in opening him, as well as simply careless. He really was displeased at even the hint of being reminded that he had a history prior to being this Champion. If he injured Loki tonight, there would be hell to pay, no matter that the Thunderer...that Thor...was not in his right mind.

Loki continued to lay flat on his belly, completely passive, his earlier arousal fading as Thor prepared him. Loki knew he would not be able to stomach the smell of fake rose scent ever again. Three fingers now, Loki grunting again at the roughness, the familiar burn giving way to the beginnings of a satisfying ache, then he groaned in pain, tensing, as Thor carelessly sawed in and out.

“Relax, sorcerer.” That was all the preamble Loki got before Thor pulled apart Loki’s legs and knelt between his spread knees. He slathered his own cock with that awful oil and pressed its head against Loki's entrance.

Loki could have used an acceptably small amount of seidr to ease Thor’s way, but worried that Thor would consider it an unwelcome intervention. Loki pillowed his hands and lay face-down on them as he felt Thor thrust inwards, shallowly, but at an awkward angle, the breach sore and the intrusion aching at the same time. He gritted his teeth and groaned as Thor pushed deeper.

Thor put an arm around Loki’s hips to position him so his ass was at a better angle for penetration. Loki felt like a doll, being arranged to please, and nothing else. He was beginning to get angry. Best to tamp that down, he thought. If this is what he had to do for an opportunity to further speak to Thor, it was not so great an ordeal. He had endured worse for less.

Thor seated himself fully, pelvis fully flush against Loki’s ass, and paused. Loki took the opportunity to arrange himself more comfortably, and Thor hummed appreciatively at the sensation of Loki’s movements on his cock. Loki settled on his elbows, and waited for Thor to start thrusting. To his surprise, instead Thor began to stroke his body again, starting at the shoulders, running his hands down the lean muscles of Loki’s arms, circling with his thumbs.

It wasn’t unpleasant, despite the circumstances. Perhaps there was more of Thor present in the brute than Loki had measured so far. Loki felt himself relax a little, willing himself to pretend he truly was in Thor’s bed.

Thor ran his hands down and across Loki’s back, along the lightning shaped mark that he, or someone who looked almost exactly like him, had scored across Loki what seemed now like a long time ago. He laughed, derisively. Loki stiffened. Was he being mocked?

One large hand was gliding around Loki’s side to stroke his stomach and chest, then moved down to gently palm Loki’s half hard cock.

“So, sorcerer. Scars as well as bruises. A brave warrior as well as a pretty mage, then.”

His tone was amused, jeering, even. Loki felt a kiss between his shoulder blades as Thor leaned over him, circling his hips, his cock and his hand beginning to rouse Loki’s interest again.

No. Enough of this. Loki would not tolerate this parody of intimacy. This was not his Thor, to be tender with and solicitous of Loki, nor would Loki allow anyone to speak to him so. Whatever the fantasy or jape of this Champion, Loki would not indulge it.

The agreement was that the brute take his pleasure, using Loki, and Loki was, in exchange, to get time in the morning alone with him.

(And Loki would use that to inveigle the brute into spending more time with him, whether for another quick fuck or for more talking. Eventually he would find a way to bring Thor back to himself, back to Loki. Loki could play the long game.)

But Loki would not be abased like this. If this Thor wanted to pretend tenderness, let him look Loki in the eye. If he wanted to mock Loki, let him look Loki in the eye. Loki had spit in Thor’s eye before, and would gladly do so to this thug who had stolen his face.

Loki braced himself and drew a dagger from elsewhere. If the Grandmaster had some way of detecting seidr, no doubt this would excite his attention. Dimensional magic was powerful, where Loki had purported to be merely a sorcerer of illusions and astral projection. No matter. He would not allow Thor to continue to belittle him this way no matter the consequences from either Thor or the Grandmaster. If Loki ended up dead here tonight, or facing Thor in the Arena tomorrow night as a result, so be it.

First, he would teach Thor once again the cost of demeaning Loki of Jotunheim.

To his shock, before he had a chance to more than grip the dagger properly, he found his wrist pinned to the bed and a strong hand on the back of his neck, holding him immobile. Thor was bearing down on Loki now with all his weight, spearing Loki with his cock, a heavy arm along his back pinning his torso and gripping Loki’s neck, his other hand crushing Loki’s wrist.

“Ah now, none of that, sorcerer. We have an agreement, do we not? I will take my pleasure tonight and you will take my time tomorrow. So my pleasure involves a little game of my own. You told me you and your Thunderer enjoy painful games. Is your ego more fragile than your impressively bruised skin? If so, I will not poke at it so again.”

 _Ego? This is my heart you are assaulting_. Loki was furious, and hurt beyond measure. The scar represented every intimate, private understanding that lay between Loki and Thor. It was a reminder to Thor of the pain he had put Loki through, a symbol too of his victory over Loki, and a testament to the hard-won trust that succeeded the ordeal they had put each other through. This Thor had enough of Loki’s Thor to sense something of that, but no longer enough of Loki’s Thor to respect it, to venerate it.

With difficulty, Loki calmed himself enough to accept that the only way out of this was to burn this place to the ground. This would benefit none, neither him nor Thor. He would have to let this Champion claim his victory here, let him debase their mutual bond, and lay passive as he was plundered by this reaver, this marauder who was an ugly irredeemable corruption of his beautiful, flawed love.

Slowly, Loki let his body relax and released his grip on his dagger, his hand almost numb anyway from the crushing hold of his captor.

The monster laughed, loosened his hold on Loki’s neck and wrist, circled his hips again as Loki lay unmoving, and began to thrust.

To Loki’s surprise, Thor took his time, and was relatively gentle. He was withdrawing his cock slowly until just the head remained inside Loki, and then leisurely pushing back in til he was again seated deep inside. It wasn’t unpleasant, but Loki was not going to again make the mistake of thinking that the gentleness and careful handling meant anything.

Thor’s hand still loosely pinned Loki’s to the bed, and he had not even bothered knocking the dagger out of Loki’s reach. Not that Loki was going to do anything but lie there and take Thor’s cock anyway; they both knew this.

Thor changed his angle slightly, and began to undulate his hips, causing Loki to gasp at the spasms of aching pleasure that resulted. He could feel Thor grin, and gritted his teeth, fisting the blankets beneath him. He willed himself to not respond to the teasing, this mimicry of lovemaking, but his body had a mind of its own, it seemed.

And Thor’s body knew his too well, also. It knew his reactions too well, his tells, when he was pleased, when his body was moving from arousal, to pleasure, to ecstasy. They had travelled that road together so many times and in so many ways, and Thor’s body remembered. Thor put his arm around Loki’s waist and manoeuvred him, carefully bringing Loki’s body up and back, so he was practically sitting on Thor’s cock. Loki felt Thor’s other hand around his cock for a moment, then it travelled up to cup his face and pull it to the side. Loki found himself looking back into the eyes of his ravager even as he was being pleasured by him.

Loki briefly considered playing the whore, as a ‘fuck you’ to the brutality he was being subjected to. Thor was clearly delighting in his mastery of Loki’s pleasure, and as Loki began to whimper at Thor’s increasingly insistent attentions, Thor’s smile grew more and more disdainfully smug. Loki wanted nothing more than to wipe that look from his face, and what more amusing and infuriating way than to start moaning theatrically like a whore, flattering a clumsy, clueless client’s prowess in the hope of a better payoff?

Loki knew if he gave into this impulse, this would all have been for nothing. It would almost certainly achieve the goal of irritating Thor and changing that smile to an expression of annoyance at the very least, but it was just as likely to anger Thor and he might declare their agreement void or simply beat Loki unconscious and throw him aside. Loki would have to grin and bear it for now, if any of the past days, the past hour, were to be worth it.

Thor laughed as if he could read Loki’s mind. Angered further, Loki tried to wrench his face from Thor’s hand so he would not have to watch that ugly expression in those beautiful eyes, but Thor held him fast, his arms around Loki’s waist tightening too.

“I will watch as you come, sorcerer,” he said, conversationally, as if it was of no mind or matter to him.

Loki closed his eyes, the only defence he had left. Thor’s strong fingers were digging into his jaw, paining him, but every other part of his body was alight with a climbing excitement as Thor skilfully snapped his hips and sent surges of pleasure through Loki’s ass to his cock, where it radiated outwards.

Norns, it seemed he was ever fated to submit to the golden king of Asgard. Even this facsimile of Thor had overpowered and out-manouevred Loki like none but he had before, or would likely again. He felt Thor’s arm drop from around his waist and sensed as Thor upended the remains of that bottle of that dreadful oil scented with fake rose into his hand, and grasped Loki’s cock.

“Look at me, sorcerer. Open your eyes. Such beautiful eyes.”

Loki did so, knowing the anger in his expression was fading as he was transported in pleasure by the rhythmic pounding into his ass and the skillful pumping of his cock which was keeping time. He tried to pull his face away again, but Thor further tightened his grip.

He started to moan as he lost focus on his circumstances, his existence centring now on the sensations that Thor was driving into him, coaxing out of him. He tried to shake his head in denial of Thor’s effect on him and also to escape the unpleasant floral scent that permeated everything, but his head was held fast by strong fingers. His eyes fluttered as he began to tip over, and then everything was centred on the ecstasy blooming from his lower abdomen, his ass, his cock; he was alight from within, riding a wave of heat and pleasure and escape.

Thor saw him through it, watching his face carefully as Loki crested in pure ecstasy for a long moment, and then started coming back to himself. Loki panted as he got his breathing under control again, and could not interpret the expression Thor wore.

“Beautiful,” murmured Thor, and he did sound and look like Loki’s Thor then, if only briefly. “Open and raw and vulnerable. That is a side few see of you, sorcerer. Should I feel honoured?”

Tears sprung into Loki’s eyes. He could not countenance such cruelty, not now. This Thor’s weapons were sharp and too well-directed for him to combat in this position. Thor brought his hand, sticky with Loki’s come, to his mouth and licked deliberately. Loki did not bother following the movement with his eyes, he had no further interest in Thor’s actions or manipulations. He hoped fervently that the tears did not spill down his cheeks, but if they did, he would take no shame in it.

“Are you crying, Loki?”

Hearing his name from Thor for the first time since before this nightmare began helped Loki to centre himself a little, despite the circumstances. He knew that the Grandmaster had not offered his name to Thor when they were introduced; the Grandmaster had as little interest in Loki’s name as he had in Thor’s.

Still, it was not reassuring to glimpse his Thor in this Champion, as the Champion took what Loki’s Thor offered him and appeared to corrupt it, to weaponise their shared tendernesses and the private, almost secret things they never even put into words between themselves, so fragile and delicate were they.

“So what if I am? Would you not, in my position?”

Thor tutted. “Your position, sorcerer, is currently on my cock. Now let us finish this. If you cry further, do let me know. I’m sure bitter tears can be delicious in such circumstances.”

Thor pushed him forward, so he slid off Thor’s cock, and he lay passive and pliant as Thor turned him so he lay on his back, spread his legs again and waited for Thor to press back inside him. Thor loomed over him, face hard now, and began to rut, focused on driving towards his own pleasure.

“Eyes open, sorcerer!”

Loki snapped his eyes open at the command, for fear of falling at this last hurdle, for fear of giving Thor any excuse to deny him his company in the morning. His eyes met Thor’s, green eyes still with unshed tears meeting blue, an alien light behind Thor’s, promising cruelty and pain.

It didn’t take Thor long to find his own peak, and for a moment as Loki watched him unfocus, the stranger occupying his love’s body seemed to peel away, and he could see his Thor there, no longer obscured.

He started to cry.

Thor hovered over him for a moment while recovering himself, caging Loki with muscular arms and grinning down at him, the predator evident in his blue eyes again.

“Sentiment, sorcerer?”

Thor collapsed on Loki, sated for the moment.


	5. The Champion At Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

Loki woke some short hours later, feeling soiled and used. Thor would normally have ensured he was clean and comfortable after any intimacies. Loki felt this loss far more keenly than simply in terms of physical comfort. The brute with Thor’s face had all of Thor’s taking and none of his tenderness. It was deeply unsettling. 

Nevertheless, at least one thing had not changed. Loki realised that his waist was encircled by a heavy, muscular arm and he was being held flush against Thor’s naked body, his back to Thor’s chest. He could feel Thor’s half hard cock pressed against the back of his thigh.

On the other hand, he could feel that Thor was awake, and aware of Loki’s own wakefulness. Again with the unsettling surprises; Thor almost always awoke slowly and lazily, and rarely before Loki. Now he was already fully alert, though relaxed. 

Thor stretched, not his usual half-awake lazy stretch which was often accompanied by mumbled sleepy noises and the half-opening of a single blue eye, but instead the stretch of a warrior readying himself. He relaxed again, took a deep contented breath and murmured quite deliberately into Loki’s hair, “So. You love me.”

Loki took a moment before he decided how to answer, covering it with a moment of squirming to turn over on his back so he could look at Thor. Instead of getting the sleepy carefree smile he was used to when they lay together like this of a morning, Thor instead looked at Loki with a considering one. 

“Did I say that? I have a reputation for lying.”

Thor kissed him on the cheek, like a friend or a lover might, before responding.

“Yes. You use the truth like a weapon, too. As can I. You love me.”

This was making Loki very nervous. At the best of times he guarded his vulnerabilities carefully, even from Thor, who seemed determined to beat his fears out of him as a past-time, but Loki risked far more than hurt and heartbreak here if his vulnerabilities were truly laid bare to this monster.

But did he really? This was not Thor, not in any way that mattered. Whatever this brute, this Beast, did or said to or about Loki, about them together, it was not Thor doing or saying it, so, really, it carried as much weight with Loki as any utterance or deed did from any stranger, that is, almost none. Truly he had no secrets from Thor....that was a lie, he had many secrets from Thor, but none that he really feared coming to light.

A thought that had been niggling at him since he first laid eyes on the Champion at the party began to coalesce. It was an uncomplicated thought, but a very powerful one. 

_This is not Thor._

It was true. This was not his prince. This was the Grandmaster’s Champion, armed with all of Thor’s weapons, except his compassion, his mercy and his love. This was not Thor.

Despite the horror that was last night, despite how clear his lack of leverage was in this fight, Loki felt on firmer ground now that he had properly come to this understanding. This was not his Thor. This Champion's treatment of Loki mattered only in that he was a physical danger to Loki. Loki was certainly prepared to risk his body for his love. His heart and his mind would hopefully be fully protected from the knowledge that it was not Thor who was offering them violence. 

He would need to remind himself of this often, he thought. 

Only for a few days. He would come to a solution to this in but a few days, surely. He would bring Thor back from wherever he was inside the Grandmaster’s Champion.

Armouring himself thus, Loki smiled a mischievous smile at Thor, one that invited conspiracy together, and Thor smiled back, a slightly confused expression on his face. Loki continued.

“I have never told _him_ that, you know, not in those plain words. I avoid telling him plain truths where I can. So, though I have told him of my feelings in my own way, never once have I actually said…” 

At this, Loki lay his head back to show how vulnerable and open he was in that moment, looked at Thor with all the love he bore for his Thunderer and finished - 

“...I love you.”

Loki saw surprise flit across Thor’s face, and something predatory gleamed again behind his eyes, but it was afraid this time. Afraid of what? Afraid of Loki? Afraid of Loki’s feelings for Thor?

No. Afraid of Thor’s feelings for Loki. Afraid of being driven out by them.

This was...fascinating. Not just amnesia, then, or at least not just that. Not just an injury that altered Thor’s personality and stole his memories and his character. Some kind of seidr, or some kind of technology, Loki was sure of it. 

Loki found himself ruefully admiring of whomever had created such a tool. He looked forward to parsing it, if he could do so without injuring Thor. But now he _knew_. He knew in absolutely concrete terms that this was not Thor. But his prince most definitely was in there somewhere and Loki would draw him back, by hook or by crook.

Thor’s expression had turned disbelieving, and dismissive. 

Loki smiled and said, "You don't believe me."

"I believe you, Loki. I simply don't care."

“Ah Thor, no longer my prince, but the Grandmaster’s Champion.” Loki felt a spasm of jealousy in his belly, his chest. _No, this is not my Thor, I need not care who else has a claim on him, nor who else he acknowledges._ “So what do you want with me? I thought I would have been bundled out of your bed and hustled down for a perfunctory breakfast so you could rid yourself of me as soon as possible.”

Thor went quiet. That would have intimidated Loki the previous evening, but now, it was just a game to be played, a game with someone who had all the most powerful pieces but didn’t quite understand the rules. Or just how quickly Loki could change the games board. 

“No longer so keen for my company, sorcerer?”

Loki stretched like a cat, closing his eyes and smiling as contented a smile as he could, when he felt Thor’s weight roll fully on top of him. Thor did not attempt to restrain or otherwise dominate Loki, allowing Loki to finish his leisurely stretch, but Loki felt every pound of muscle of his prince on top of him, Thor’s now fully erect cock pressing against his hip. As he relaxed from his stretch, Loki allowed his hands to fall on to Thor’s shoulders, and he made to pull Thor even closer to him.

“Whyever would you think such a thing?” Loki smiled, unchallenging, biddable. “Doesn’t everyone seek the company of the Champion?” 

He flexed his fingers, which had been running up and down Thor’s back, and gripped Thor’s shoulders possessively and continued.

“Like those vapid hangers-on that I stole you away from at the party?”

He dug his nails into Thor’s shoulders. He felt Thor’s cock twitch against his hip.

“Sorcerer, you did not steal _me_ from _them_. I am not theirs to be stolen”.

 _Damnably correct_. At least this Thor knew that much. He may not rightly know who he belonged to, but he knew it wasn’t those insipid lapdogs. 

“Ah yes, of course. You left _them_ in pursuit of _me_. And I stayed with you last night in return for a private conversation over breakfast. Where is my breakfast, Thor?”

With some effort, and not obstructed by Thor, Loki shifted and pushed Thor off, standing to bathe and dress. Thor looked at him as if puzzled for a moment and then reached for him. A strong hand grasped Loki’s forearm, stopping him. “Breakfast is whenever I decide, sorcerer. I am not finished with you here as yet.”

Loki broke Thor’s hold with a quick gesture, to Thor’s considerable astonishment. He had not expected Loki to resist. 

“That’s as may be, Champion, but _I_ am finished with _you_ as of last night. Now I wish for my part of the bargain. That is, breakfast, and a private conversation. Will you keep to it?”

Thor growled and lunged for Loki, who deftly avoided him, despite some aches from the previous night’s sports slowing him. He rendered himself invisible and seamlessly conjured an image of himself to smirk at the Champion. 

“Come now, Thor, don’t tantrum. After breakfast we may come to another arrangement, and who knows what I may offer you.’

Thor growled again, feral, and in a smooth, panther-like movement, lunged at Loki’s double from his prone position. Loki moved it in time to duck out of the way, but it was a close run thing. If this had been his Thor, he would now have seen through Loki's trick and the jig would be up already. Instead the Champion snarled in a blind rage, and made to lunge again. Loki’s double laughed and ran for the door, pulling on a pair of illusory breeches on the way, and Thor followed at full speed. Naked. 

Loki sighed. Thor had not made any attempt to summon Mjolnir, which would have been overkill given the circumstances, but to be expected from Thor in this mood. Where was Mjolnir? 

Loki projected his consciousness into his fleeing double and looked behind; Thor had almost caught it up, so Loki laughed and dived and rolled out of the way, running down a side corridor in this labyrinthine place. He kept this up for a few moments until he lost sight of Thor, or rather, Thor lost sight of the illusion, as Loki managed to put just enough distance between them to vanish around a corner. Hopefully Thor would be enraged enough to keep searching while Loki had time for a bath and a ponder.

Still invisible, he sat into the bath and began to soap. Clearly he could not chase Thor, that was a tool that the Champion would use to control him, and cause him pain, and get them nowhere. Keeping the Champion's interest was going to be of value only if it meant Loki could successfully draw his Thor out, or drive the monster away. Could he do so before the Champion grew bored with him, or killed him in a rage? 

Knocking Thor out and dragging him to a stolen ship seemed all the more attractive a solution now. 

He lay in the bath thinking for some time, still invisible to all but himself. The sound of Thor’s return roused him. Thor, in a makeshift tunic that covered him from shoulders to knees, walked through the doors and looked around. He was clearly searching for Loki and to Loki’s surprise, carried a tray of breakfast foods.

“Where are you, Loki? Show yourself.”

The tone was vaguely threatening, but also held a note of uncertainty. Good. Keeping this brute on the back foot would be useful, if dangerous.

Loki made himself visible, lounging lazily in the bath. 

“Whose cloak did you steal to cover yourself, Thunderer? You must have frightened children and enthralled old women running around with your cock hanging out like that.”

Thor’s face blanked as he heard Loki use the by-name he had forbidden him, but he did not otherwise react.

“I brought your breakfast, sorcerer, as you demanded. Are you always such a difficult guest?”

Loki laughed in pure glee. “Ah Thor, I was a guest for many weeks in your war camp some time ago, a pity you don’t recall. I was wonderful company, given that I resisted murdering you in your sleep.”

Thor scoffed, moved to place the tray at the lip of the bath, and slid into the water beside Loki. 

“You wished to speak to me, sorcerer. What is it you wanted to talk about, then?”

Loki lay back his head and closed his eyes, as if bored. “I’ve changed my mind about a conversation with you, Champion. Breakfast will do.” He cracked open an eye to watch Thor’s reaction. 

Amusement sparked in Thor’s eyes, not the sardonic kind that Loki had learned to be wary of these past hours, but open and frank, an expression he often saw in his Thor.

“I will not play your games, Loki.”

That purely sounded like Thor, wry and amused, and Loki found himself grinning back, their first real moment of connection since Loki had seen Thor in the Arena what now seemed like ages ago. Was it really only last night? He saw the predator rouse in Thor’s expression again. _No, Champion. My love for Thor will not be used by you against me. I am wise to you now._

“No games, Champion. How could I hope to win? I will break my fast and be gone soon enough.”

It did feel like one of their old games. It felt like the one Loki had played to seduce Thor, when he had ignored his own growing feelings for Thor, dismissed them as dangerous and irrelevant. He had lost that game by winning, the force of Thor’s love and desire breaking down the walls Loki had thrown up to protect himself. What would the outcome here be, he wondered. 

Thor turned to take a plate with tiny pastries and cut fruit and moved closer to Loki. Did Thor intend to _feed_ him? He held a piece of fruit by Loki’s mouth, watching him intently, and Loki accepted, careful not to touch Thor’s fingers with his lips. Thor watched his mouth. Loki fought hard not to let his tiny, seductive pout develop into a full scale pleased smile. He did like it when his Thunderer fussed over him. 

“What if I did not wish for you to leave, sorcerer? What if I were to chain you to the bed? Take you as a concubine, no matter your will in the matter? How long before you would tire of that game?

Loki scoffed, genuinely entertained. “You chained me before and you learned better of it. Do you really need the same lesson twice?”

Thor hesitated, appeared to shake himself, looked at the plate of food he was holding, and took another piece of fruit. He offered it again to Loki.

“Take your meal, then, sorcerer, and be gone.”

Loki said nothing, but accepted the second piece of fruit too. Let Thor decide how this conversation would proceed. After watching him eat again, Thor continued.

"I told you once that no one would take you from me, not even myself. Is that not so?"

Loki eyes widened with surprise. It seems the Champion was tapping into some of Thor’s memories after all. He relaxed. He would not allow the Champion to use it to manipulate him. This was not Thor. Loki remained silent, smiled, and accepted another piece of fruit. 

"I can see why, I suppose. You are a pretty one." 

Loki rolled his eyes. He knew what he looked like, and though he could be vain when it amused him, for the most part he regarded his looks as a tool as much as any other he had. “There was a score prettier at your victory party last night, Champion.”

Thor gently cupped his neck, warm fingers at the back, his thumb stroking that sensitive place below his ear. “I did not think so.”

Loki looked at him carefully, and the wave of relief that washed over him almost led him to cry again. This was certainly his Thor. He could see the Thunderer at war with the predator that occupied his physical form, and although he was not winning, he was certainly giving the Beast a proper fight. Bringing Loki a meal, feeding him, sitting by him in the bath, which was always Loki’s favourite place to rest and think, even Thor’s threats to keep Loki by force no matter Loki’s wishes; all signs that his Thunderer was fighting for dominance, to regain himself.

After a few moments of silence, Thor asked, “Will you remind me of where we met?” 

Loki did not like the question, though the pain from this time had faded. 

“We...were enemies, at first. Enemies at war. You pursued me in battle, and then in love and I could not deny you.”

Thor nodded. “You will not deny me now, either.”

Loki scoffed again. “I would not be so confident, Champion. You are not my love, not truly.”

The predator smiled, a sharp smile. “I am enough of your love for you to play your games with. If I were not, you would be gone.” He looked lost, suddenly, then relaxed again, and said with a confidence that was pure Thor, “You will not go. You are mine, and mine alone.”

Loki frowned. He knew that Thor was fighting for himself, for them both, against this intruder, but Loki felt he was fighting both of them together all the same. 

It was time to meet fire with fire. _Let the Champion remember that Loki Laufeyson is not to be trifled with._

“Listen well, _Champion_. I am Thor's, and Thor's alone. I will go where he, and only he, directs. Otherwise, I will go if I wish, and where I wish, and _you_ will not stop me. I will be with or without you, or with others whom I value, or perhaps those I do not value; in any case it is not your concern unless I wish it to be, because you are not my love. So do not mistake me for the Loki that the true Thor knows, do not mistake me for the Loki that would kill for him, that would die for him, that would give him all and everything. That Loki belongs to _him_ , and though you had me for one night, you will never have that Loki again.”

Loki stood up in the bath. The Champion made to speak, anger on his face, but Loki was satisfied to see that he fell silent when Loki cupped his face. Loki allowed his fury to show, but kept his voice calm and low. 

“How _dare_ you forget me! How dare you forget all we have done together, done _to_ each other, all we have been together? How dare you, Thor?”

Loki was suddenly aware he had taken the dominant attitude between them, which meant he may be closer to losing control of himself than he realised. Carefully, he released his grip on Thor’s face and moved a calming step backwards. Taking a hold of himself, he continued, still quietly. 

“You would have done anything for me once, not so long ago. You would have laid the Nine Realms at my feet. And until you remember enough of yourself to beg on your hands and knees to be allowed to offer such to me again, I have no use for you. _None_.”

He walked up the steps out of the bath. The Champion was frozen in shock. Recovering himself somewhat as Loki dried and dressed himself with seidr, he stood and reached for Loki with his palms open, imploring. 

“Loki! You will come to the victory celebration tonight, will you not? LOKI.”

Loki heard the fear and yearning in Thor’s voice as the doors closed behind him, and he did not look back, he did not respond, and he did not acknowledge that his heart was close to breaking.


	6. Loki's Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading!

Loki found himself swinging from heartbreak to anger and fear and back again. After all this time, and all that had happened between them, to find himself here once more…

Thor might not survive this. This parasite, or whatever it was, had clearly inextricably wrapped itself around Thor’s mind and heart and would not let go easily. But then, so had Loki, and neither would he. 

This was going to be a fight to the death, but it was not Loki’s life at stake. 

If he lost, Loki would lose Thor, and perhaps his own self in the end. Losing Thor would rip something essential from him, cause irrevocable pain and damage. Death might be preferable. 

No, he refused to allow hopelessness to rise. He would pick his battles here, and he would win, eventually. He could play the long game, even in such circumstances. 

Loki cursed himself. He had begun to take for granted the comfort and security of being with Thor. Thor, the golden king of Asgard, the god of thunder, the great Protector of the Nine Realms and wielder of Mjolnir, who had become Loki’s shield from the vagaries and cruelties of life, and from his own self. It had become normal for Loki to look to Thor when he wanted and needed to share happiness, sadness, fear, love, hope...all those things that Loki had once habitually guarded carefully, even from himself. _Especially_ from himself. 

Loki had begun to depend on Thor to keep him grounded. The comfort of having a strong hand to hold was without measure, a strong hand to reach out and grasp him, and pull him back insistently and with love. And Loki had begun to take it for granted. 

And now the grounding hand was instead being wielded by a monster, Loki was all the more likely to lose himself, to slowly unwind and find himself adrift. To find himself mad.

He could feel it already. He had stood over Thor, dominant in attitude as well as stance, and spoken fury at him. He had spoken fury many times to his Thunderer, it was true, but always as the submissive partner. Their dynamic was always thus, and to instead be forced to take the lead felt unnatural, unsettling, alien. He cursed Thor. How _dare_ he put Loki through this!

He and Thor had never spoken of it, but Loki knew Thor understood instinctively Loki’s weakness, his fears. Loki once had kept himself safe by keeping himself guarded, shielded. Sane. 

And then Thor had come and chased and bullied and loved, until Loki could no longer hold up the walls that guarded him, and a torrent of love had swept them away. Helped by Thor’s strong arm, sometimes wielding his belt. 

Knowing Thor would stand against him should he truly lose himself in madness was one way in which Thor kept Loki grounded. He could not bear the thought of the rancorous, angry love that would lie between them if they faced each other across the battlefield again, especially if Loki was unleashed, untrammeled, _unhinged_. But more importantly, Loki knew he could rest in his lover’s arms should the burden of his damaged psyche become too strong. He did not have to fear the darkness in him because he could turn to Thor’s light to keep it at bay.

His prince, his king, his love. It was time to bring the fight to the monster that threatened to destroy him. 

  
  
  


Loki spent the day ghosting around the Arena in the guise of a ‘prisoner with a job’. Few bothered a slave who was going about their business for another master. He avoided Thor, and considered not attending the fight that evening. Best though to continue cultivating a positive relationship with the Grandmaster, as far as that was possible. 

He greeted the Grandmaster’s arrival at the Arena, another pretty in tow. The Grandmaster looked as if he had forgotten who Loki was already, to Loki’s amusement and annoyance. “Ah yes, yes, mmm, mmm, you entertained my Champion last night, did you not? Admirers usually flock to him, and yet there he was, seeking you out!”

Loki smiled, bland yet charming. He had to acknowledge Thor’s obvious interest in him, but play it off as if he had grown bored of Loki once sated. “I held his attention for many hours, Grandmaster, and yet for only the night. He is as magnificent as you said, though rough. Where did you manage to find such a creature?”

The Grandmaster’s smile dipped for a moment, and the same predatorial gleam as Loki had seen in Thor’s eyes was briefly evident, seeming so much more natural there. That was as true to the character of the Grandmaster as was the whimsy and the casual cruelty; there was no alien intelligence hiding there. The Grandmaster _was_ the alien intelligence.

“Can't remember, really. A scrapper brought him in. Poor thing was terribly banged up, I mean terribly. Wasn’t sure where or who he was. I knew he'd be a smash hit in the Arena! Won’t you join me and my friend here er, what was your name again, for another bout?”

Loki hoped that the Grandmaster was referring to the fight. He did not fancy indulging the sexual whims of this madman and his foppish companion. Nevertheless he took the Grandmaster’s other elbow with a smile and walked onto the balcony. 

The Grandmaster’s companion, Azin, was better company than Loki had expected, and not quite the sycophant he had assumed. As the Grandmaster fussed over the opening of the night’s events, Loki asked him if he was an enthusiast of the Champion too. Azin enthusiastically told Loki of Thor’s arrival three weeks beforehand.

“He claimed he was the lord of thunder or something, and made sparkles. The Grandmaster was entertained by his defiance but then he disappeared for a few days and we all assumed our host had grown bored with him. And you know what happens when the Grandmaster becomes bored…”

Loki smiled back knowingly. He did not intend to stick around long enough to find out.

“The lord of thunder turned up again a few days later in the Arena, though, chomping at the bit for the contest, and has been reaming through all and any opponents sent to challenge him. He has been champion for, oh, two weeks now and shows no sign of stopping.”

“He is Champion, hmm?” said Loki.

The crowd was going wild as their Champion took his place again in the fighting pit. This time, his opponent was some large horned and clawed creature which looked as if it could give Thor an even fight, and so it proved. Thor never lost control of the encounter, though, and Loki could see him snarl and revel in meeting the challenge. 

Loki turned away. It did him no good to see Thor in this state, fighting a creature forced to entertain these baying crowds with its lifesblood. His Thor loved a hard fight, but surely would be disgusted by this destruction of dignity. He made to go, but the Grandmaster was suddenly in front of him. 

“Hey hey, where are you going? Sit down.”

Loki backed up as the Grandmaster forced him back towards the seats in the balcony. 

His nerves were singing with anger and worry. He could not play the flirt and the jade any longer. He knew it was a mistake, but he could not stop himself. 

“What did you do to him?”

The Grandmaster eyed him, the cruelty plain on his face now. 

“To who? Oh, my Champion? I knew there was something about you two. Is he your creature, or, no, let me see, you're his?”

Loki laughed. “I will not waste time explaining what you couldn’t possibly understand. What did you do to him?”

“Rude. Just like your friend, before I adjusted his attitude. Although I think he might be more rude now, haha. But not to me, which is the important thing. Do you want him back? He’s quite happy here, really. Don’t be selfish.”

Loki had spent the day thinking of how, if it came to a one-to-one fight with the Grandmaster, he might overcome the tyrant. He was reasonably certain that the Grandmaster was a very powerful being, immeasurably older and more experienced than Loki at the very least, and likely kept considerable abilities hidden behind frippery and debauchery. 

If the Grandmaster had used mental manipulation on Thor, then Loki needed him alive and willing to co-operate to remove his interference. Loki would have to bend his stiff, stiff neck and ask for this vile thing’s favour. He took a deep breath.

“Grandmaster, what is your price for your Champion?”

The Grandmaster stared at him for a moment, and then clapped his hands and laughed. 

“His price? His price? Such crude terms, no, he doesn’t have a price. He keeps my people entertained and he, well, keeps me entertained too, of course! I’m supposed to put a price on that?"

“Yes.” Loki was in no mood for negotiation.

A roar came from the crowd. Thor was victorious. Even as he turned his head to ensure that Thor was uninjured, or at least whole, he realised he had given the Grandmaster an opening, and sure enough, he felt something cold and sharp snap at his neck. Before he had managed to catch a glimpse of Thor in the pit, he was on his back before the Grandmaster, spasming and gritting his teeth, unable even to cry out. Nothingness bloomed and swallowed him.

He woke what must have been only minutes later, slumped on the long seat of the Grandmaster’s viewing balcony. Azin was glancing at him, and looked relieved as Loki pulled himself up, feeling like he had run like a racehorse. The Grandmaster was cheering Thor on as he fought six creatures about two thirds his size, ducking and feinting, the remains of at least another four scattered around him and his ring of opponents. 

Loki sat and watched silently until the fight was done. Thor did not exult and crow as he had the previous night, but he looked to the balcony where the Grandmaster stood, and Loki was sure he saw Thor's eyes widen at the sight of him. He was still for a moment, not bothered by the roar of the delirious crowd, nor the delighted clapping of the Grandmaster. He saw only Loki, and Loki saw only him.

The Grandmaster swept Loki and his favourites into the victory party, and Loki sat, dejected, on the edge. 

_What now?_ What indeed. Loki had revealed his hand too rashly, and both of them were now in thrall to the Grandmaster. Any move Loki made had better be one in which he had full confidence. 

As if thinking of him drew him forth, the Grandmaster was in front of Loki again, on the arm of Thor this time. Loki looked up for a moment, blinking in surprise, and stood. He had not noticed Thor arrive, paid no mind to the susurration of excitement as the victor made an appearance at his own party. He wondered how long Thor had been paraded around by the Grandmaster already. 

Thor was looking at Loki, expressionless. The Grandmaster was gazing at Thor admiringly. He turned to Loki.

“Oh, my pretty friend, let’s turn that frown upside down, shall we? You know my Champion of course.”

Loki looked at Thor and said nothing. 

Thor reached out and cupped Loki’s face. Loki did not bother to school his expression. Thor smiled. “Do not be so sour, sorcerer.” He stroked a large thumb along Loki’s cheek, his palm warm and reassuring. “The sorcerer tells me he knows me from before, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster hummed and a glow lit his expression, clearly pleased that his Champion had volunteered the information.

Loki responded, in a monotone voice, “And you told me you did not care, Champion.”

The Grandmaster laughed, laden with false heartiness. “Go play, Champion. Go find some new friends. Before you do, though, take this, ah, prize, a reward for your efforts tonight.”

He handed Thor what Loki dully recognised as a controller, a pain modulator for obedience disks used to control slaves here. Thor ran his thumb along the controller, and Loki gasped and groaned at a blessedly brief spasm of agony that shot through him. 

Thor looked quizzically at the Grandmaster. “This device, this control over the sorcerer is my reward, or more? I would have _him_ as my reward, not just his controller.”

The Grandmaster smiled, gracious, generous. “Well, I don't want him. That's a lie, I do, but there are other pleasures for me to enjoy right now. He is yours, my Champion, if you want him, that is. He is a bit sullen-looking, isn’t he? I don’t like a grumpy sl- ...prisoner with a job.

Loki was looking daggers at Thor. “Third time, Thunderer! A collar may not be involved this time, but the principle is the same.”

The Grandmaster and Thor looked at Loki with the exact same sense of puzzlement.

“Thunderer?”

“A collar?”

Loki sighed. “Go party, Thor. Later we will talk. Or something, anyway.”

Thor held the controller up tauntingly, smiled a very Thor-like sunshine smile to the Grandmaster, and turned back to the party.

Loki was enraged by the smile. Those were _his_. Of course, Thor favoured everyone with those smiles, but Loki most of all, and for some reason that simple gesture given to the Grandmaster made him furious. 

“Don’t pout, um, Loki, wasn’t it? Or do, you actually look prettier when you’re sulky than when you’re sullen. Let’s talk, sorcerer to Grandmaster.”

Loki did not want to talk to this man, not now, not ever. He wanted to go back to Thor’s quarters, if he could find the way, and figure out a way to persuade Thor to jettison whatever party pretties he might have chosen for the night, and then underline very strongly that Loki was to be the only guest in his bed.

Then he would work on ensuring that the Grandmaster met with fate.

The Grandmaster fluttered around him. “Don’t take it to heart, my friend, I just want us all to get along, you understand? It’s nicer when everyone works together. Now, here's a proposal to you.”

Loki was genuinely surprised by this. He did not expect the Grandmaster to have any interest in him beyond being sure he was secure and not a threat. Loki had been sure that at least the Grandmaster would have confidence in the obedience disk to neutralise him. But it seemed Loki did not even have that advantage; the Grandmaster seemed intent on pushing him further into a corner. 

“I've built Sakaar over many painful long….times. It's a savage, chaotic, lawless place. A place you could prosper, am I right? Am I right? Come on, you know I’m right.”

He turned and pointed at Thor, who was now leaning against a bar, disinterested in the flatterers that surrounded him, vying for his attention. He was looking at Loki.

“That handsome hunk of war-making Champion is the best thing to happen to here in, oh ages. Simply ages. I just can’t let him go. And you want him, right? Lucky for you, and me, and all of us really, he wants you too. I can tell. It’s the smouldering stares he throws in your direction. Very direct. He _is_ a treasure! You two must have got it on hot and heavy wherever you are from. Well, I can make your dreams come true, my friend, without messing with them even a tiny bit. Stay here. Keep the Champion happy. BE happy. Toe the line with me and I’ll give you free reign here. The disk comes off, you know. Assuming the Champion doesn’t object. I bet you’ll have him dancing to your tune soon enough, no matter which of you wears the disk. What do you think?”

Loki stared at him, flummoxed. Every word he had said was true. Loki could very well prosper here, what a place for him to be let loose on. And he would be with Thor. A flawed version of Thor, but Thor nonetheless; it was not like his love had ever been a perfect man, nor always a good one. Loki had tamed him once, he could do so again. Bring him to heel in their bed together, if not in the fighting pit. 

The Grandmaster patted him on the shoulder, and Loki suppressed a shudder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then, young man. This is a great opportunity for you! Enjoy the party, although I expect there’ll be many more to come. It’s good to live in the moment though, isn’t it?

He was gone in a graceful sweep of colours. Loki’s legs sagged and he sat heavily on the sofa. He stared at the floor for a few minutes, until he became aware of Thor’s stare, which was almost burning a hole in his head. Loki looked up at him, and was rewarded with a quirked half-smile. Thor was still surrounded by lackeys, one of them sitting on his knee now. A pale, slim, dark-haired young man. Thor crooked a finger towards Loki, and Loki gave him a withering look. Thor waved the controller at him in response. 

Loki stood, and bowed sardonically. He was leaving, no matter what Thor inflicted on him. He took a step towards the exit, and the bolt of pain dropped him. He heard some of Thor’s audience titter. The pain lasted only a moment, so he picked himself up, did not look at Thor, steadied himself and continued towards the exit. Down he went again, oh, this did not get easier. Some of Thor’s sycophants tittered again, but fewer, and it sounded a little forced. He took a moment, got to his knees, then stood, took another moment, and made again for the exit. _Bam_. Loki was not sure if Thor was increasing the dose or whether it just felt worse each time. He sensed a shocked silence descend on the party.

If Thor, his Thor, had any influence on this, he would know that this was a battle neither of them would win, certainly not Thor. Loki lay still for a moment, and then pulled himself up into a sit, his legs aching and tired from the convulsions, his core muscles, shoulders and back still screaming with the echoes of the agony. 

After a moment, he tried to pull himself to a stand again, because fuck Thor. A familiar hand reached out to steady him and he instinctively leaned on it. He found himself looking into the angry blue eyes of the Champion, and he hid a triumphant smile. Well. He had won this skirmish, but there was still the battle ahead. And eventually, the war.


	7. Leashing the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading!

Loki was steered by the elbow back to Thor’s rooms, neither of them talking, Loki stumbling slightly as the pace that Thor set outstripped what his aching, tired muscles could keep up with. What a horrific tool for control this obedience disk was.

Once inside his doors, Thor flung Loki towards the couch, onto which Loki managed a graceful sprawl. _You are in control here. Do not let him see you lose control beyond what is unavoidable._

Thor roared, “How dare you walk away from me!”

_Oh, boring._

Loki snapped back anyway, “How dare you summon me like a pet!”

Thor walked towards him, menacing, towering over him, balling a fist. “Do you wish me to force you to do my will, sorcerer? I do not wish to truly harm you but I will do what I must.”

“To get what you wish, you would justify much, my prince. At least that has not changed about you.”

That was below the belt, he knew, but Loki was hardly in a fair fight. The barb seemed to skim off the skin of the Champion, but Loki would lay good odds that it had struck deep where he had aimed it.

Sure enough, the brute calmed. Looked at him consideringly.

“I told you, I do not wish to harm you, or hurt you. Will you not co-operate? Do you not wish to please me?”

Loki sighed. “Sit down, Thor.” The beast only hesitated for a moment before lowering himself to the couch beside Loki.

To Loki’s surprise, Thor said softly, “Your eyes are green.”

Loki responded with a mischievous grin, “Sometimes.”

Ah, he did miss these moments. He would have them again, soon, surely.

Thor continued, “You did not wish to be with me at the party.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “I have told you that I have no use for you as you are, have I not? That has not changed.”

  
Thor growled and grabbed him by the scalp, forcing Loki’s head back. _Stupid Champion. Thor has not quite outgrown such tactics, but they are no longer his first thought._

“You will do as I please or I will punish you!”

“Punish away, Champion. Eventually you will either recall or be forced to learn again that I will break before bending, and I will almost always choose to break, foolish though that is.”

“Why would you behave in such a way? Are you mad?”

“Possibly. Not yet, I think. You are hurting me.”

Thor let go. Loki carefully brushed his hair back into place. He could see the Champion at war with Thor. Loki was no longer feeding the beast his vulnerabilities, and he was provoking Thor with love and with cruel truths, and he thought that he could see his way clear to perhaps speaking directly to Thor soon. Not quite yet though.

Sure enough, the Champion looked at Loki with disdain, and drew the controller forth.  
  
“You have not yet learned what hurt is, sorcerer. There is nothing and no-one to stop me from knocking you unconscious from pain with the flick of a button and taking you.”

“Oh, _Thor_. You do not need such a crude thing to force me to fuck you. If you wish me to bend over for you, I cannot stop you from making me, and therefore will not try. But I will not accompany you to parties, not willingly. I will not sleep beside you, not willingly. I will not kiss you, not willingly. I will not attend your fights, not willingly. Any comfort or companionship you crave from me, you will not get. Because I am not yours. And so I will give you _nothing_. Anything you take from me will cost you in time and patience and effort, and eventually you will grow frustrated and break me. And you might forget me, but not really, and whatever existence you find yourself having, you know damnably well that there will always be a hollow in your psyche that is unfillable, because I am no longer there.”

Loki realised he needed to be careful now. A struggle between his Thunderer and the Champion could leave Thor a husk, as far as he knew. A series of expressions flitted across Thor’s face, none of them pleasant.

He grabbed Loki by the shoulder, then, and said, “Very well. If you will not _give_ , I will _take_.”

Loki shook him off roughly and growled, “No, Thunderer, _I_ will take.” Before Thor could respond, Loki dropped to his knees between Thor’s legs in an oh so familiar pose. He lay both his forearms along Thor’s thighs and gripped the crease with his hands, rubbing his thumbs along the leather of the crotch. Drawing himself closer, he looked up at Thor to monitor his expression. He looked...intrigued, lust sparking, anger fading, wary. Good.

Unfastening the ties, Loki slipped his hand inside Thor breeches and coaxed out his cock, which was already swelling. Ah, it was such a beauty, large and heavy, nestled in dark blond curls. Thor had yet to wash the dust and sweat of the pit off himself, and blood too, ugh, but Loki could not find it in himself to object. The fresh sweat and musky scent of Thor was enticing, and as Loki kissed the helmet of Thor’s cock, he did look straight into Thor’s eyes so Thor could see the lust in his. He saw his Thor then, mesmerised by the sight of Loki taking the head into his mouth, and Thor’s eyes fluttered as Loki began to swirl his tongue around the head, popping the head in and out of his mouth, enjoying the sensation and the taste and the scent. Loki closed his eyes. This was for him, after all, and neither for his love nor his monstrous captor.

Loki relaxed into a slow, sloppy worship of Thor’s cock, rubbing it against his face and mouth so both were covered with his own saliva and Thor’s leaking fluids, taking some of it into his mouth while he played with Thor’s sac with one hand, licking and sucking Thor’s sac and the root of his cock languorously and almost gratefully, pushing his head down on Thor’s cock so he could take it all, slowly and deliberately, gagging a little so he could feel it twitch and swell even more at the pulsing sensation of his throat.

He did not once look at Thor, not even when he felt a large hand settle on his head. He teased and caressed with his mouth and tongue and hand, and brought Thor near to the beginnings of the ride home several times, not to frustrate but to enhance the final lap. He heard his name, seemingly from far away, so enthralled was he at his own labours, as Thor began to thrust into his mouth. He took a breath through his nose and swallowed until he had Thor in his mouth all the way down to the root.

Thor’s hands were palming either side of his face, and as he began to come, Loki started to rise back up, so Thor’s first load went down his throat, the second spent in his mouth and the third and all subsequent spurts went all over his face and his open, already come-laden mouth, his tongue catching all it could.

He swallowed what he needed to in order to breathe and sat back, exhausted but content. The Champion would understand nothing of that, beyond the pleasure it brought _him_ , but for Loki this was a purely selfish moment of kneeling for his prince and worshipping him, the peace that came with giving himself up to his love, losing himself in his desire and need and submission.

The Champion said his name again, sounding so much like Thor that Loki found himself about to break, but he was rescued by a surge of anger at what had been stolen from him.

He stood, and with a dismissive gesture cleaned the spend from his face, righted his clothing, and made to leave without bothering to look directly at Thor.

As he expected, the Champion grabbed at him, and said peevishly, “Where are you going? It is your turn, is it not?”

Loki smiled, as cold and gleeful a smile as he could manage. “I told you, I have no use for you, and I refuse to give. Force me to stay if you will, but you’ll get no joy from me.”

“You…! I offer to go on my knees for you, but you…! _I will not play your games, sorcerer!_ ”

Loki shrugged. “Do not, then. Go back to your party and bring your pretties here if you wish for more pleasant company than I can offer. You won a victory tonight, did you not? Take your spoils, Champion. Just do not make the mistake of counting me among them.”

Thor stood frowning at him. “And where will you go?”

Loki looked around as if he had only just realised he had nowhere to go.

“I suppose I must stay here. The couch will do, I have slept on worse.”

Thor walked over to him and Loki very deliberately did not move. Thor was formidable even when he did not mean to threaten, but his palpable anger now made him a terrifying figure. Loki quailed inside a little -only a little, he told himself- but did not show a drop of it on his face or body.

To Loki’s surprise, Thor merely cupped his neck and growled, “Two can play at that game.” He kissed Loki savagely, turned on his heel and left in a flurry of red and silver.

Loki let out a breath. He had not expected to come out of that one unscathed, although he always had confidence in winning. Unless Thor did something unexpected, he had won this round too.

Sure enough, shortly after Loki had made a bed for himself on the couch, a pillow stolen from Thor’s bed, Thor arrived back with two partygoers in tow. Without needing to look, Loki knew one of them was the dark haired young man that had been sitting on Thor’s knee earlier. He considered casting a silence spell around himself, but decided to endure on the basis that he needed to keep his anger sharp and hot. He pressed his face into the pillow, inhaled Thor’s lingering scent and let his anger smoulder all night.

  
  
  
  


The next morning, Loki rose early, and wrenched both of Thor’s visitors out of his bed roughly.

“Out! Or I will have your ears.”

Thor half-woke, confused. He looked so much like himself, Loki fought not to cry.

“Loki. What is it? Have I hurt you? Do not be dramatic, I am not that heavy.”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Thunderer, go back to sleep.”

Clearly still confused, Thor smiled a sleepy sunshine smile at Loki, deciding no doubt to take his sorcerer’s advice because going back to sleep was more attractive than facing whatever chaos Loki was creating.

He was still and content for a moment, and then the Champion opened his eyes, fully alert.  
  
He sat, seeking out last night’s companions, and realised they had fled Loki’s wrath.

“Do I detect jealousy, sorcerer?”

“None for you, _Champion_.”

The Champion laughed a short, ugly laugh.

Loki did not acknowledge it. Instead he said, “You stink of the pit, Thor, of blood and dust and sweat, and of your overnight guests also. Clean yourself, and then I may be more likely to breakfast with you.”

He turned to leave. As he walked through the doors to Thor’s rooms, he breathed a sigh of relief that the Champion had not decided to prevent him from leaving. He went to the canteen quarters, run much like one on a large ship, took some foods and a tray and returned to Thor’s quarters.

Thor was gone. That was a draw, perhaps. Loki sighed and sat and began to eat alone. And to plan for the next skirmish.

  
  
  
  


Loki kept to himself for the most part during the day, and decided to explore the gladiatorial area in the early evening before the fight. In truth, he was missing Thor, and if he was going to come across him anywhere in the warren of the Arena, it would be there.

He caught sight of the Champion soon enough, seeming as near to Thor as Loki had yet seen him in the company of others. He was the focal point of the gathered fighters, all hanging on his words, which flowed with ease, all enthralled by a bright charisma that drew everyone to Thor, at the end.

One of the fighters recognised Loki. “Hey Champion! The Grandmaster won’t like to see one of your admirers down here! No ficky ficky before a fight!”

Thor looked over at Loki and smiled, a true Thor smile. He detached himself from the group and approached Loki, who warily sought out the signs that the Champion was dictating events.

“You came looking for me, little Frost Giant? For some...ficky ficky, was it?” He was grinning cheekily now, amused at the notion that Loki had sought him out here for a quick fuck.

Loki tried to glare but knew it melted into affection. “Less of the little, my prince. I am a more typical size than you, not being carved from a boulder.”

Thor’s grin became a smile again. “I like it when you look at me like that, sorcerer.”

Loki schooled his expression. “It’s not for you.”

“You are sure?”

Loki nodded noncommittally, and left.

  
  
  


Thor was fierce in the pit that evening. Less wild though, less triumphalist, more measured and precise, surgical in his blows. The crowd loved it. He did not play to them, though, except to mark his kill. This evening, it was an intelligent lizard creature. Loki sat with the Grandmaster and regretted the death of another unfortunate for the pleasure of his host. Thor did not look towards the balcony after his victory, this time.

“You kids figured it out yet?” The Grandmaster had been wittering on inanely for some time, and Loki barely caught that he was expected to answer.

“We...are in discussions.”

“Lovers’ quarrel, is it? I’m rooting for you two.” The Grandmaster eyed Loki. “You know, he isn’t actually ever going to be who he was ever again. You can learn to love what is left of him, right?”

_I could. It would be tumultuous and stormy, but when are we not?_

Again, Loki nodded noncommittally.

  
  
  


At the victory party, which Loki had become deathly bored with and heartily sick of, the Grandmaster showed Thor off to his guests yet again. Thor was as opaque as he had been the first time Loki had seen him here - was it really only two nights ago? Once the Grandmaster let him off the leash, however, Thor made his way over to Loki and kissed him, full on the lips.

Ignoring the flow and bustle of the party around them, Thor sat on a couch and drew Loki down beside him. Loki did not resist,

Thor said nothing at first, then handed him the controller.

“I would not have you forced to be by my side.”

Loki was dumbfounded for a moment. He turned over the controller in his hand, saw how to release the obedience disk, and did so. The disk dropped into his hand, and both controller and disk disappeared into convenient pockets.

“Thank you, Thor.”

Thor shrugged. “I feel we have been here before somehow. And besides, it has not helped me get what I want from you.” Loki rolled his eyes. That was absolutely Thor.

“Loki. Stay with me tonight. Come to bed with me. I cannot promise I will always be kind, but I will always strive to be the best I can be where you are concerned.”

Loki sighed. “How can I accept that as enough? You are _brutal_. It would break my heart to leave you but I will not subject myself to the savagery I have endured and seen these past days.”

Thor was silent. Loki saw a flash of the Champion again. Then he was gone, and Loki found himself sitting beside Thor again.

He did not meet Loki’s eyes as he asked, “Tell me of who I was. And of you are. And...if you would, tell me what we were together.”

Loki thought about it for a moment. Thor took his hand, circled his thumb on Loki’s palm.

“I’ve told you a little of who you are. You are a brave warrior and king, as perhaps might be evident from the role you have taken here. When I saw you with your fellow fighters today, I was reminded so strongly of you and your Einherjar. You are a king, and a god, and storms, and sunshine…” He paused to think on how to explain his relationship to Thor. To his vast surprise, Thor spoke first.

“And you are my stars and moon.”

Loki stared. Then, as if of one mind, they rose and left for Thor’s quarters.


	8. Training the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

They stumbled down the corridor towards Thor’s quarters as Thor stopped every few moments to pull Loki in for a kiss, and to paw at him. They almost did not make it back to Thor’s rooms, so enthusiastic was the Champion. Loki, however, did not intend to put on a show for anyone who might pass while the Champion groped him in an alcove. Eventually they tumbled through the doors. 

Thor pushed him on the bed and started pulling at Loki’s clothes. Loki assisted. He just wanted to be naked and helpless under Thor, wanted to be overpowered and loved and not allowed to resist. He rolled on his front as soon as he was bare, put one hand on his cock, and was just about to order Thor to fuck him, and fast, when he felt Thor climb over on top of him, brooking no argument as to the hows and wheres of what was about to happen between them. Loki was not averse; his own Thor had been this rough and far more in the past.

Loki could smell the dust and blood of the pit on Thor’s armour, fresh sweat, desire, want, as he was pinned to the mattress. Thor’s weight was welcome and reassuring, though Loki knew he needed to be wary in how far he trusted this. He could feel Thor’s helmet cold against his neck and back as Thor mouthed his way from his shoulders to his ass, tracing the familiar route of the scar. 

His weight still on Loki, the Champion was fumbling now, probably for oil, but Loki decided he frankly did not care how little he was prepared, and thrust his ass up at Thor urgently. Thor laughed at him, the laugh reverberating along Loki’s spine as he felt Thor’s hot breath at the small of his back, the promise of it descending ever lower almost paralysing him. 

This was one of the occasions when he just wanted it fast and hard. He wanted to be possessed by Thor, by the beast, used by him, even. He wanted to forget himself in the strong arms of his love, to trust in the beast to take and then give back. He put away the fear he had that the beast would simply take, and give brutality in return, as he had before. But Loki decided that he had to take a chance, give a little trust, give the beast an opportunity to be a little more. The beast had already proven that he could put his base desires aside when he freed Loki from the obedience disk, instead of using it to take what Loki would not willingly give. 

Thor thrust a few times along the cheeks of Loki’s ass, circling his hips, working on his own pleasure, enjoying the sensation of his sorcerer. Loki stroked his own cock, savouring Thor’s indulgence of himself in Loki’s body, and felt a kiss again on the base of his spine.

Loki needed this. Thor enjoyed it, Loki knew, and it tapped into his natural urge to lead, be dominant, exert power, but he did not need it in the same way that Loki did. It allowed Thor to take without shame, and then give without qualm; his joy in command and demand and control balanced by his drive to protect and be generous. For Loki, it allowed him to just be, his mind quiet, his heart tranquil, safe in his Thunderer’s hands, shaped by them.

He felt so content now, in that moment; naked and quiet under the Champion, who was not his, but could be, with some trust. Loki was calm of spirit and pleasantly aroused, cherishing the feeling of being physically adored while Thor took his pleasure and his leisure with him. 

Thor pressed inside him more slowly than Loki expected, and sighed softly as he came to rest against Loki’s hips. 

“Tell me you need me, Loki,” Thor whispered.

Loki was relaxed, warm inside and out, pliant and content. 

“I need you, Thor.”

Thor began to thrust, slowly.

“Tell me you love me.”

Loki took a deep, slow contented breath. “I love you, Thor.”

Thor began to thrust a little more quickly, but not much. Despite his urgency earlier, he seemed now to want to take things relatively slowly.

This suited Loki. He felt cherished, loved, treasured. He had missed this so. 

“Tell me you will always want me. Won’t you, Loki? Say you will." 

Loki felt himself slump a little. He felt immeasurably saddened by this. He would always want Thor. But he could not subject himself to the cruelty and selfishness that Thor carelessly flung around now as Champion. 

“Thor…”

Thor began to thrust harder, driving towards his pleasure. 

“Tell me, sorcerer.”

Loki could not. He could not risk feeding the Champion’s monstrous, cruel ego, even at the cost of Thor’s heart. His own heart dropped. He had erred again, allowed himself to be weak, seduced by a glimpse of his Thor in all of this cruelty and chaos. 

Thor was thrusting hard and rhythmically now, about to tip over to his climax. Loki could feel his need, his heartbreak, in every rut, in the desperate ache he was causing Loki. 

Loki realised that he could not remain silent. He would pay the cost of this as he must, but he would not break Thor’s heart, not with a lie, nor with the absence of the truth. The truth always cost Loki so much, but so be it. He would pay the price. 

Thor spoke again, deep pain as well as passion in his voice. 

“Lie to me, Loki. Lie, if you must. Tell me you will always want me. Please. Please, my love. Tell me you want me. ”

Loki could not deny him. He whispered his answer.

“Always." 

Thor’s hips paused, and tremored, and he came, and he said Loki’s name just once.

Loki had gently batted away Thor’s attempts to take care of him after, fearing that his needs would rouse the beast. Blessedly, it was Thor who kissed Loki tiredly, and fell into an exhausted sleep, leaving Loki to strip and clean him for bed. As he wiped the grime from Thor’s skin, Loki worried about who he would wake beside in the morning. 

If Thor, then fine. Thor’s character was asserting itself, if not all of his memories. He was clearly exhausted, though, and Loki suspected it was at least partially from his efforts at being the one in control this evening. 

If the beast, the brute, the monster, then it could go one of two ways. Either the beast had begun to understand the lesson that Loki was hammering into him, or he did not care. If the first, then Loki had a hard road ahead, but one that would ultimately lead to him leashing the beast. If the other, then Loki had a war still ahead. 

He fell asleep beside the naked, cleansed, sleeping form of his love. He was no less exhausted than Thor, he thought, as he settled into slumber.

  
  


The next morning, he awoke, tangled in Thor’s limbs. He could tell it was the beast that held him though, the beast who had him wrapped tightly and possessively.

Loki sighed. He sensed the beast smile and shift, holding him more tightly. This felt so welcome and familiar. Usually if Loki chose to remain in Thor’s arms until Thor too woke, Loki would have to eventually struggle out of Thor’s embrace. 

Loki considered. He had to reach an accommodation with this side of Thor if he was to inveigle him to escape this place eventually. 

The silence stretched for some time. Thor stretched and propped himself on his elbow now, just looking at Loki as he had from across the room at the victory parties. He seemed amused, though Loki thought he could detect a hint of uncertainty. 

“Am I to expect this more often, sorcerer? I thought you had no use for me.”

“I told you, Thor. None of this is for you. This was for me.”

“Nevertheless, sorcerer. You are here in our bed.”

Loki looked at Thor with an expression of utter disdain. He hid the triumph he felt at hearing the words _our bed_.

“And?” asked Loki, snippily.

“What must I do to keep your interest, Loki?”

Loki was silent, considering what to ask for. He could not make a mistake here, it could cost the Champion’s trust if he demanded too much, and cost him the Champion’s respect if he demanded too little. 

Loki decided to gamble. He decided to be honest, and demand it all.

Loki closed his bored, disinterested eyes for a moment. He took a breath, and sat. When he opened them again and looked at Thor, he allowed the Champion to see the yearning and raw want in the depths of green, the layers of knowing and need stripped back, the essence of Loki plain for him and him alone to see. 

“You would have laid the world at my feet. Anything I asked, Thor, Champion. But now, you have denied me what is rightfully mine. _You_. To capture my interest again, you will give me back what’s mine by right."

The Champion was quiet for a moment. Then, "By what right, sorcerer?”

Loki lost his temper.

“By right of conquest! By right of victory! I defeated you, Champion, when you were barely more civilised than you are even now! You can feel the truth of this, though you do not remember! You did my bidding though I was your slave, and you suffered gladly for the pain you caused me, though I was your enemy, and you knelt for me and begged me to stay with you, though you were a king! You are mine as spoils of war and you will give me what is due to me!”

The Champion was taken aback at Loki’s ferocity, but the feral spark in his eyes still weighed, and wanted. Wanting to take, but afraid of losing what he desired. There was a snarl in his voice as he responded. 

“The world at your feet. The Nine Realms, you said, whatever those are. What did you ask for, sorcerer? What did you ask of me, if I promised you such? What did I give you, Loki? What role did you play for the king-that-was? Were you my pretty concubine? Did I dress you in jewels and silks and expect you to lounge around on velvet-cushioned chairs all day, waiting for my attentions?”

Loki laughed again, wistful, angry. “You gave me everything I wanted. Your attention, your words, your love, your cock, even your belt and your strong, merciless hand. You allowed me to lay myself at your feet in love and trust. You gave me a space in your heart and your life where I could be weak and mad and cherished and desired, where I could cherish and desire and trust, and all of this in safety. I do not know if you are capable of such now. But I demand these things anyway. Return to me what is mine.”

Loki could feel he was on the edge. If the Champion stepped falsely here, Loki knew he would not hesitate to strike back, but no longer with words. There would be an outright battle between them. And Loki was in the mood to welcome it. 

Instead, the Champion looked uncomfortable, though still on the edge of anger and a breath from ending the conversation and simply taking Loki, whatever he willed.

“I...cannot give you what you wish, sorcerer. It is not mine to give. I am the Grandmaster’s creature, first and foremost. This is not something I can change.” 

Loki saw it in his eyes, the predator at bay. He sighed. _Asgard, or the Grandmaster. Something always has a bigger claim on_ you. 

Loki would accept the world as it was. Not as he would wish it to be.

He sat back in the bed. “If this is all I get, Champion, I will take it.” He was exhausted. Utterly exhausted. But, as far as it was possible, he had won. 

Thor was completely still. The predator within him stared at him with suspicious eyes. 

“You…will stay with me, Loki?” His tone was almost yearning. 

“I will stay, Thor.”

“You will forgive me for all I have done?”

“It is forgotten, Thor. My prince. My king. My Champion.”

The Champion laughed, bitterly. “You are a hard one. You refused to bend, and you did not. Not to pain. Not to threats. Not to humiliation. You did not even truly care that I brought others to our bed. In front of you!”

Loki rolled his eyes and replied, “All you did last night was prove to me how much you wanted me. Oaf.”

Thor pulled himself up and over to where Loki sat up in the bed. The beast was displeased, but subdued. Loki was going to have to work hard to keep him leashed. 

He loomed over Loki again, and Loki did not mind admitting to himself a little thrill of fear. Thor bent and kissed him, a thorough kiss, as taking as a kiss as Loki had ever been given by Thor, a little room left for giving too, though. 

The beast sensed his fear all the same. “Are you frightened, little Frost Giant?”

Loki smiled up at him. “Always, my Champion. I have always feared my love unleashed. So this is not so different from before, in a way.”

“But it will be different, sorcerer. I am different.”

“I accept that, Thor. We will come to an arrangement. But you will treat me with respect.”

The beast growled, low and frustrated. “What do I know of your measures of respect?"

Loki looked at him. He was speaking truth. The Champion appeared to carry the values and behaviours of his master, and would struggle to understand Thor’s now, never mind Loki’s. 

“As I said, we will come to an arrangement, Champion, eventually. I cannot control your actions. I am only in control of my own, and often not those, in truth.” He laughed a little at that. “So, you may spend your nights with whom you wish, but I will not share your bed again if you take another into your arms. Equally, you may strike me in anger if you wish, but I will not come to you willingly even once more. Treat me with respect, or I will give you nothing.”

“You will give me nothing,” repeated the beast, despondently, a little angrily.

“Anything I give you, you may ruin. Comfort, love, intimacy. I run a risk with you, Champion. Be sure you are worthy of it.” 

“I run a risk with you, sorcerer. What if you simply leave? Why do you not? Why stay here with a half-true version of your love?”

“I told you, Thor. I will take what I can get. That is the bargain when one loves a king, anyway, and the king of Asgard most of all. Who is to say this will be worse than what would have been?”

Loki decided to take a chance. This would be the weapon with which this beast, this feral brute could destroy him. And Loki needed to know. He could not wait with a sword hanging over his head, waiting for the day when the Champion would show his true colours and destroy Loki’s heart. If Loki was to hand the Champion this, and if Thor was in bad faith or simply weak and unable to resist his newly base nature, he would not hesitate to use immediately what Loki intended to tell him now. But at least Loki would know. 

“You may be changed from the man I knew, Thor, but if you must know, I always carry the fear that you will change. It is inevitable, is it not? I choose to not yet live with you on Asgard, and while I am gone, you will change. It is the way of things. Eventually I will return there from one of my journeys to find that you will greet me as usual, but with the fondness one feels towards an old friend.”

“Then you will take me to bed and there will be lust and affection, but no real passion. Your feelings for me will become like an old piece of jewelry, taken down from the shelf when it comes to mind, dusted off and admired and fussed over, and then put away and forgotten about until the next time it catches your eye.”

“And eventually you will forget about me, about us, what we were together. You will find a suitable Consort and make a life with them and I will be forever on the outside, glad to just be welcomed back when I visit.”

“And if I had the courage before now to tell this to you, to my prince, my king, my love...you would have made it better by saying something wise and kind, and true, and then this, your truth, would be as if it was something I already knew, that I always knew, but had just forgotten, and fretted about for no good reason. And I would never worry about fading from your heart again.” 

“But I never did. And I always feared it. And here we are now.”

He lay back against the bedstead, waiting for he knew not what.

“Loki.”

He steeled himself, and looked at Thor. 

The predator had not retreated. Loki saw the searching in his eyes, the alien intelligence. Well, now I will at least know.

The Champion spoke. “Then it is better that you are here, is it not? I will be here always, serving the Grandmaster, fighting each and every evening for the opportunity to spend my nights and days with you. That will not change. And it is better for us both. No responsibility, beyond what is immediately in front of us. No-one to depend on us, except each other. You will be mine, and you will please me, and I will be yours, and give you all I have and all I am. Every action I take with you, every word I speak to you, will be proof of my love and regard for you. Time is strange here, so we might be here forever. We will never grow old, my love, nothing from our old lives will concern us, certainly not this Asgard that you fear, and we will never be apart again, I swear it.”

He kissed Loki on the cheek, and smiled, a strangely gentle smile for someone with those eyes. 

Loki accepted a proper kiss and put his arms around Thor as the kiss deepened. Thor pulled Loki to him, and laid him gently on the bed, kissing a trail down his chest and stomach to his groin. 


	9. Taming The Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading.

The Grandmaster strode through the doors of Thor’s apartments without warning, a sparkle in his eye and an unctuous smile on his face as he stood at the foot of their bed. 

“So you two _have_ made up! How adorable! That means then that you have taken my bargain, erm, Loki? I like it when we all get along.”

Loki got out of bed in a spare, elegant movement, and dressed himself in an efficient whirl of seidr. Nothing flashy, not now. A sense of quiet but calm capability was what he needed to project here. Thor seemed as yet unsure how to react. 

Facing the Grandmaster, Loki nodded slowly. “Of course, Grandmaster. I look forward to being at your service. I will of course have sole and full access to your Champion in return, is this so?”

The Grandmaster’s eyes flicked to Thor. “Mmmhmm, yes, as long as the Champion agrees of course. You’ll forgive me, but his happiness is my first, my _only_ concern.” He placed a light hand on Loki’s chest, and Loki did not resist. “Depending on how you put your talents to use here, I may become concerned by your happiness, too, maybe, I think.”

Loki felt Thor tense. Well, this could be a disaster. Was this a test of some kind or was the Grandmaster genuinely oblivious to his Champion’s nature? 

Loki had to keep the Grandmaster on side, and healthy, for now. Loki was sure he was the key to healing Thor’s mind, if it was even possible, and he would not allow the beast that controlled Thor now to destroy the Grandmaster through misplaced jealousy. 

Loki also suspected that perhaps the Grandmaster was hoping to test their loyalties to him right now. Had Loki orchestrated such an event as this, he too would have tested the trustworthiness of his toys. If Thor reacted badly, Loki had no doubt that they would both be put down like rabid animals. 

Well, if it all went to Hels here, Loki would do his damn’dest to pull down the entire Arena and the Grandmaster too as he fell. Disaster and destruction haunting his mind’s eye, and relishing the idea only a little, he smiled indulgently at the Grandmaster. 

“Grandmaster, I assure you, my talents will firstly be put towards pleasing your Champion, as you had hoped. We shall talk again about my other duties, I am sure.”

The Grandmaster smiled as if this had been the answer he had hoped for, hand still resting lightly on Loki’s chest. Loki was not sure if he was simply imagining Thor’s growls.

“Exactly, exactly. Well.” The hand, long fingered and manicured, started to daintily spiderwalk up Loki’s chest, an unsettling feeling, beyond the merely physical. At this moment, a split second before Loki predicted he would have had to intercept Thor’s fist, a figure just as immaculate and perfumed as the Grandmaster skittered through the doors. Azin, a companion of the Grandmaster who Loki had met once before, flung himself theatrically at the Grandmaster, clinging attentively and needily to his long frame, and in a wheedling voice entreated him to try some newly arrived breakfast delicacies in his own rooms.

The Grandmaster frowned at him, frowned at Loki and then smiled at Thor as he removed his hand from Loki’s chest. “Of course, Azin. You can’t accuse me of neglecting you, can you! I guess you could, but I wouldn’t recommend it! Haha.” Azin paled as his smile became even more fixed. They walked away, Azin breaking his studiously adoring gaze at the Grandmaster to glance back once at Loki, who nodded once in thanks for his aid. 

Thor _was_ growling.

Thor leaped from the bed and immediately pinned Loki to the wall, kissing him deeply. After some time of Thor desperately and hungrily trying to devour him, Loki broke the kiss, panting, and looked into the eyes of the beast. The beast held him fast, his cock swelling and demanding through their clothes against Loki’s hip, his knee between Loki’s spread thighs. 

“The Grandmaster has never come to my rooms before! What did you do to attract his attention?”

Loki was stunned. Thor’s jealous rage appeared to be directed at _him,_ not the Grandmaster! 

“You mean, the nothing I did yesterday at the party, and the speed with which I arose and covered myself when he walked in unannounced and uninvited this morning? Do not blame me for the behaviour of …” He was about to say ‘a madman’ but thought better of it. “...the lord of this place.”

The beast looked back at him angrily, possessively, wonderingly, and to Loki’s surprise, tentatively. 

Thor’s lack of certainty passed in a moment as he spun Loki around with one hand and set to roughly pulling down Loki's breeches, his free hand planted firmly between Loki's shoulder blades and pressing his face and torso to the wall.

Thor was still naked from sleeping, and he rested his already hard, throbbing cock on Loki’s now bare ass. Loki was well and truly trapped between Thor’s bulk and the wall, Loki’s hands now placed flat against the wall to brace himself against the coming storm. Loki felt the heat of Thor’s mouth against the back of his neck and shuddered in anticipation. 

Thor grunted, impatient as he worked Loki open again, an easier task given the intensity of his passion the previous night. Loki gasped at the roughness, all the more sensitive to it after last night’s hard use by Thor. He assisted Thor’s ministrations with a little seidr; he was not in the habit of preparing himself, as he felt his ass was at the very least worth the cost of the tender loving care and time required. Besides he enjoyed having Thor fuss over him and tease him, driving Thor as mad with anticipation and desire as Loki himself. This time, though, he too was impatient in this moment for Thor to demonstrate his claim on Loki. 

With that briefest preparation, Thor breached him, though shallowly. Loki felt the head of Thor’s cock at the entrance to his intimacy, and his whole skin, his entire body lit up, every nerve ending tingling as if he had been touched and teased and thrilled for hours. A strong hand was gripping his hip, another placed itself over one of his hands, still palm-flat on the wall. He could not help but groan at the overwhelming feeling. 

To his surprise, the beast -and Loki was certain it was he that was just inside him, just about to take him- paused. Loki felt a kiss on his neck, which turned into a rough, possessive bite, and he gasped as it sent silver trails of arousal all around his body, like he was tasting the sweetest, sourest delicacy and it was causing pleasure indistinguishable from pain, in places he never expected.

He shuddered, already panting and respectably hard despite not having any attention directed towards his own cock as Thor trailed teeth and tongue up his neck. The hand on his hip snaked around his waist. He heard Thor mutter, _“Mine,”_ as if to himself, and with that, the arm tightened around his waist, Thor’s hips ground forward, and Loki found himself fully impaled on Thor’s cock with a visceral groan.

Thor set a rough pace. Loki found himself having to lean into the pounding, rhythmic ache in his fundament with some effort, but no regret, even if it drove whimpers from him each time Thor bottomed out. Thor was treating him as a possession, a doll, a thing to sexually relieve himself in, and Loki could not find it in himself to object. 

He needed this, needed to give himself up to Thor in his passion. He hoped he was not a fool to trust the beast in this as he would Thor. Those thoughts were too much; he took refuge from them in the sensation of Thor’s cock inside him, battering into him as Thor took his own pleasure, thrilling at his base use by one he dearly wished to trust. 

Loki took his free hand from the wall and wrapped it around his own cock, to protect it from being battered against the wall as much as to take his pleasure. He matched the rhythm of his fist to Thor’s thrusts, his moans to Thor’s grunts. 

“Mine, Loki. None else will have you. You will not leave me. You will stay.” Thor spoke lowly, throatily, his hand over Loki’s gripping tighter as he continued to thrust. 

“Always. Always, Thor, always.” Loki was approaching his peak, not thinking any more, he was feeling, he was cresting joy and delight, and he would always stay with Thor, always stay with his Thunderer. His wants, his needs were all that mattered. The world was reduced to pure sensation, expanded into overwhelming pleasure for an untold stretch of moments, minutes, he did not know how long. As he began to descend, he was aware of Thor inside him, beginning to reach his own climax, shuddering as he spent inside Loki in erratic gushes. He was aware of his own trembling legs, Thor somehow doing the work of holding them both up. His hand let go of his own spent cock, and he let his forehead fall against the wall, the cool of it welcoming against the heat of his brow.

“You are a liar, sorcerer.”

Loki was recovering, his mind emptied by his climax, his body struggling to remain standing. Thor’s cock was still half-full, half-hard, still deep in his ass. 

“What…?”

Thor cupped his neck so his fingers were around Loki’s throat, not choking, but the threat was there. He tilted Loki’s head up and backwards. Loki could just catch the expression on Thor’s face; sad, but thunderous at the same time. Loki was confused. Of course he was a liar. What of it?

Thor spoke in quiet anger, tinged with sadness. “You lie, Loki. You lied to me when you told me that you would stay, always. _Liar_.”

_Ah._

Loki was calm. “Do you intend to _make_ a liar out of me, Champion?”

Loki steadied himself with both hands pressed against the wall again, the cool of the construction material becoming unpleasant against his stomach and chest, Thor’s body still hot and pressing against his back, pinning him in place, one of Thor’s hands pressing Loki’s against the wall still, the fingers of Thor’s other hand still at Loki’s throat, his cock still in Loki’s ass. 

“What do you mean? I do not speak for you, sorcerer.”

“No. You do not. I speak for myself. And, Norns help me, I spoke true. I cannot leave you, Thor. I will stay. Always. Unless you make it impossible for me to do so. Unless you _make_ me break my word.”

Thor fingers loosened from around Loki’s neck and then curled around again, slightly tighter. Loki could hear fear in Thor’s voice. He had to handle this carefully, or Thor would break him, in either grief or anger, or both.

“I would not do that. I would not have you break your word. Why would I? I want you. You want me. What would I do that could cause you to leave me?”

“Thor. We have already spoken of this. You promised to always do your best in your treatment of me, and I told you that was not enough. Not if your best is compromised by rage, or jealousy, or fear. I told you I will not permit you to treat me with violence, with disdain. I will have your respect, and you will have me, all of me. Or neither of us have anything.”

The beast was silent for a few moments. “And we already spoke of this, as you say. What do I know of your standards of respect?”

Loki sighed. “It will not be easy, Champion, but we start with you swearing you will not raise a hand to me in anger. Do you understand? No matter what I do, there will be no violence, or threats of violence. If I praise your greatest rival, if I steal your most precious possession, if I insult your closest ally, if I kiss your dearest enemy in front of you, you will respond honestly but in honour, do you understand me?”

Thor was silent again. He huffed a laugh. “I suspect that _you_ are my dearest enemy, sorcerer.”

Loki felt the tension leach out of him, and he made to turn around to face Thor properly. Thor took a moment to withdraw from him, gently. He turned Loki around, gently too, but his hand was still on Loki’s throat.

“Your nearest and dearest enemy, Champion, it is true, and has been true since the day we met on the battlefield, a day that ended with you victorious and I in thrall to you, as I still am. But mark what I said. The power lies in your hands, Thor. You will be a man of honour in our relations, or you will be a man alone. Do not make a liar of me. It will break both our hearts.”

The beast nodded, slowly. “I was rough with you, now. You do not wish that from me?”

Loki smiled, cupped his face. “You may push me against as many walls as you wish and fuck me as roughly as you wish, Champion, if that is your desire. But if I tell you to remove your hands from me, you will do so, and upon the very moment that I say so. The first time you refuse or hesitate, you are lost to me and I to you, do you understand?”

The beast nodded, still suspicious. “Yes.” Loki resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief. 

“Now remove your hand from my throat, Champion. You are never to put pressure on my neck again.”

Thor removed his hand without hesitation. “I swear it,” he said, looking Loki in the eye as if trying still to detect a lie. He looked neither ashamed nor abashed. Loki wondered how much of this he truly understood. He was happy to accept Loki’s conditions if Loki would stay, but he did not understand why Loki set those conditions. 

Loki was aware of his breeches around his knees, Thor’s spend spilling down his ass and thighs. He felt vulnerable, exposed, despite having secured his safety, as far as it was possible. He righted his clothing, removing the mess of cooling seed with seidr, regretting Thor’s usual inclination to make Loki feel clean and comfortable and cared for after sex, especially if he had been rough. 

Loki sighed. “Thor. Champion. I _will_ stay.”

The beast looked at him, the feral, alien intelligence in his eyes weighing and considering Loki. Eventually, Thor said, “I believe you.”


	10. Trust and Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading, and for helping me get this chapter into decent shape.

Seemingly reassured, Thor turned to take a brisk, efficient bath, and Loki breathed a sigh of relief as he removed his clothing to join him. He still felt a little unsettled, more from the Grandmaster's touch than anything Thor had done or said, though, he was sure. As he stepped in beside Thor, Loki decided now was as good as any a time to ask a question that had been bothering him since the first night he had seen Thor fight at the Arena.

“Thor, where is Mjolnir?”

Thor paused in his ablutions, and looked at Loki, that fearful, dangerous look in his eyes as he paused to consider the question. _The beast does not like this line of enquiry. Hmm._

“I do not know who that is. If they are from our old life, let them stay there. We only have need of we two, is that not so?”

Loki nodded absentmindedly.

Unexpectedly, Thor reached out and caught Loki’s left hand, not roughly. He turned it so he could see the inside of Loki’s wrist, where the thin silver replica of Mjolnir gifted by Thor to Loki sat on his pulse point. Loki cocked an eyebrow. 

Thor did not seem perturbed, it seemed like a normal conversation, despite his action. 

“Who...where did you get this, Loki?”

“You gave it to me. A parting gift when I left Asgard.”

He retrieved his hand from Thor’s grip and did not elaborate, or ask Thor to.

Thor was silent for a few moments as he went through the motions of cleansing himself.

Eventually he spoke again. “I...feel a loss, sorcerer. I thought when I found you here that I had found that which I did not know I was missing. But there is still a hollow in me I cannot fill. Not even with you.”

Loki was not sure how to react. Thor was almost certainly speaking of Mjolnir, and the hollow he felt was surely made evident to him by Loki’s naming of her. Why else would he only now acknowledge the silverwork gift which Loki had been visibly wearing since they had met here days ago?

Where was she? Destroyed, perhaps? Was it possible to destroy her? Was she lost on Sakaar? Did she too get flung off the Bifrost to a Nornsforsaken corner of the multiverse? Or did she land in Asgard as was all of their intended destination? And where were Sif and the Warriors Three? He would not like to be the one to get in the way of Lady Sif in her search for her king. 

He decided to advise Thor as he would if Thor was himself, and in his own mind, and Mjolnir lost.

“Call to her, Champion. Whatever it is you feel the loss of, call to it, and she may come to you in time.”

Thor looked at him, incomprehension painted on his face. “She…? I have been calling to her for days now, I think. I can feel her calling me, too. I...was not aware of it until now.” His face darkened. “I do not like what I do not understand! What is this? You will explain it to me, Loki!”

Loki moved closer to Thor and lay what he hoped was a calming hand over Thor’s clenched fist. His hand was slender compared to Thor’s, but fit perfectly all the same. He could sense Thor's agitation, the coiled power, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

“You...were the wielder of a weapon, a hammer, Mjolnir. She was gifted to you by your father the king when you came of age, to provide a focus for your considerable seidr. She is sentient, in her way, and you have a strong bond together. She is as much part of who you are...you were...as your realm. If she can come to you now, no doubt you will be soothed by her presence, as my presence soothes you.”

Thor did not look soothed. The brute, the beast was curdling his handsome features in an expression of combined fear, distrust, and anger. Whatever grip the beast had on Thor, he feared his bond with Loki less now that Loki had acquiesced to him, no matter that he too had acquiesced to Loki, but Mjolnir was clearly a new threat to his hold, his primacy, his control of Thor.

Loki placed a hand on Thor’s face, and ran his thumb along his cheekbone. “It is new to you, Champion, in a way, but nothing to be concerned about. Whatever comes our way, we will face together. Be easy.”

The beast blinked slowly, and relaxed. Loki held in a sigh of relief. He had work to do today, and if it had to be postponed to reassure Thor, then so be it, but he did not wish to spend a moment longer on this trash planet than he had to.

Or did he? Taking a towel, he moved to the window facing the wormhole that dominated the sky, and considered his -their- options. He had a lot to consider. 

What was best for Thor? He could be content here, as he had said. Fighting and feasting, with Loki by his side and in his bed. Had Thor not obligations to his realm, this is how he probably would choose to live his life, at least for a little while. But Thor was not truly Thor without Asgard, without his family, without responsibility and obligations. 

What was best for Loki? Loki was aware that he was a notoriously bad judge of this, of himself. What did he _want_? He wanted to be with Thor. Even diminished as Thor was here and now. Loki had told Thor the plain truth there. Loki’s beloved was alive still, though his light had been muted, and Loki would not walk away. Could not walk away. This Thor had little nobility, but what little there was, Loki would draw it out. Loki would continue to leash the beast and train it and they would both be as content as it was possible to be in these circumstances. 

So, Loki’s choices were several. 

They could stay here. They would prosper, Loki would make sure of that. The Grandmaster could be a useful tool, if Loki played his cards right. His heart beat faster at the idea of allowing the Grandmaster to live, the challenge of it, the dangerous dance with one as savage and chaotic as Loki himself could be, gloves off, no holds barred, every move in the game with the potential to win or lose all. 

Or Loki could overthrow him. Surely there were those who feared or envied him. Loki would find them, and exploit them. 

Then he and Thor would be rulers of this place, and they themselves would become the subject of fear and envy, of course. Loki would point Thor in the direction of those he wanted publicly destroyed, and would himself deftly slip a thin, deadly blade between the ribs of those he wished discreetly eliminated. They would rule Sakaar together, Thor casting his light on the lives of their subjects, Loki his dark shadow, lurking and watching them. 

Alternatively, he could steal Thor and be gone. Loki had come to terms with the idea that Thor might never recover himself, be forever trapped and damaged in his own body, even with treatment from the healing mages of Asgard. It did not and would not change Loki's feelings for him. But if Loki chose this course of action, tore Thor from the Grandmaster and Sakaar, and if Thor remained at the mercies of the beast, Thor would never trust Loki again. _I promised you I would stay, Thunderer. Stay with you, and never leave you. I said nothing of staying in Sakaar._ He did not think that argument would hold up well with the beast, somehow. 

He could leave and try to find a way to Asgard, bring help to Thor. This would mean abandoning Thor. This would be a last resort. He was not sure that any part of him really wanted to. Being with Thor was all Loki wanted. In Asgard, he had to share him. Thor belonged to his people, his parents, his friends, not just Loki. Here, he would only belong to Loki, once the Grandmaster was eliminated. It was tempting, so tempting. How long before Loki found himself forgetting Asgard, Jotunheim, Odin and Frigga, Lady Sif and The Warriors Three? He would easily adapt to the game here, revelling in the intrigue and chaos, and in having Thor to himself.

None of his choices were good.

His dark thoughts were interrupted by Thor's approach. As Thor turned Loki to face him, Loki realised that Thor had dressed himself for afternoon sparring with his fellow gladiators while Loki had stood with a towel wrapped about his waist, thinking and thinking. Loki took in the sight of him, even now more than a little awed by his golden hair, even though almost shorn, his skin glowing with refracted sunshine, the breadth of his shoulders, his looming height. Thor was a god by virtue of power, a king by virtue of birth, and a warrior by virtue of discipline, and Loki sometimes yet was overwhelmed by his beauty, his strength, his very presence. Nothing of Sakaar could take from Thor the force of his character and the might of his physicality. Loki took his opportunity to bask in them. In truth, he wanted to go on his knees before his king.

Thor had an annoyed expression on his face, though his eyes sparkled with a mischief that Loki had not seen since before Sakaar.

"Sorcerer, why is all of your attention not on me?"

Loki laughed in surprise, his first real laugh since he had seen Thor in the Arena.

"I have no idea, my love," he replied, honestly.

Thor placed one hand on his cheek and leaned in for a kiss, a soft kiss full of affection, enormously enjoyable. Loki could feel the strength and surety of his prince in the embrace, and he relaxed into it gratefully, ready to take his leisure with it. Thor deepened the kiss, wrapped a large arm around Loki’s naked shoulders, and Loki just melted as Thor’s tongue darting lightly into his mouth and held him close. Thor gripped his damp, curling hair roughly, pulling him away from their kiss even more roughly, and pushed Loki downwards with a heavy hand on his shoulder and a harsh fist in his hair. The dominant treatment sent warm skirls of excitement through Loki, gathering low down. 

He gasped a theatrical 'oof' as he was forced to his knees and was rewarded with a smile of dangerous intent from Thor. Loki felt a thrill of nervousness, close enough to fear, at the look in those blue eyes, usually gentle, sometimes fierce; now unknowably intense. He let his trepidation show on his face, both to encourage Thor and to warn him to be mindful. 

Thor smiled in response, not a kind smile, but ran his thumb along Loki's lower lip almost reassuringly and then held his jaw gently. Loki knelt half naked and newly washed, white towel wrapped tightly around his waist, knees slightly wider than his hips, as if in invitation, bare from the waist up, chest slightly pink and damp from the bath, head upright, face turned helplessly towards his prince. He was being held steady in an unrelenting grip, mouth slightly parted in uncertainty, green eyes wide.

Without warning, the fist in Loki’s hair pulled him backwards so he was off-balance, depending on Thor's painful grip to keep him from keeling over. Loki grabbed Thor's wrist with both his hands, and cried out in genuine shock, 'What are you _doing!'_ when Thor's other hand pressed his jaw so his mouth was forced open and he was unable to speak properly. It _hurt_. Oaf. Letting go of Loki's hair, Thor made a show of undoing his breeches at the crotch as he controlled Loki with a tight, firm grip on his face. Loki thrilled at the sight of Thor's large, strong, dangerous hand pulling open the leather ties very deliberately, releasing his already straining, half-hard cock. Loki's mouth, still held achingly open by Thor's other hand, watered in anticipation, his tongue flickering out to lap almost involuntarily.

"Allow me to give you something to focus on, sorcerer. Perhaps this will teach you not to allow your mind to wander from me." 

With that, Thor took his thickening cock and pressed it into Loki's waiting mouth. Thor hummed, pulling Loki into his crotch, still damp from the bath, as his cock began to swell further in the wet heat of Loki's mouth. Loki gripped Thor's hips for balance and to centre himself as best he could. The heat from Thor's crotch, the thickness of his thighs were intoxicating in themselves.

Even only half-hard, Thor's cock was still more than a mouthful and Loki let the head slide down his throat as far as he could. He then swallowed deliberately, and gagged enormously, and Thor did not let up on the pressure at the back of Loki's head. Tears sprang to his eyes as he struggled to his gag reflex under control. Loki relished the feel and salty, musky taste of Thor despite the discomfort, curling his tongue around the heavy, full, velvety intruder. His own cock twitched and swelled as he felt Thor's fully thicken and lengthen, and Thor mercilessly pressed even further into his throat, strong hands keeping Loki's head steady. Thor grunted, pleased, and began to face-fuck him with no compunction whatsoever, ignoring Loki's sounds of struggle as he tried to adjust to the careless thrusting down his throat. Tears started to brim and fall down his cheeks as Loki strove to cope with the repeated, rhythmic intrusion.

Thor continued to batter his way into Loki's mouth and throat, pulling Loki's head towards him while snapping his hips forward, driving helpless grunts from Loki with each thrust. Loki's eyes were streaming now, grunts becoming groans as Thor thrust deeper, until he finally bottomed out. Loki's head was being gripped firmly, near painfully, in those possessive hands as they maneuvered him into best pleasuring Thor's cock. His own cock was pulsating in rhythm with Thor’s thrusts, and sweat gathered at his temples, saliva slid down his lips and chin as Thor rocked in and out of his mouth. Loki groans were muffled, grunts and desperate heaves for breath through his nose being forced out of him as Thor manoeuvred and used him roughly and carelessly to drive towards satisfaction.

Thor continued his onslaught on Loki, Thor who was inside him, surrounding him, completely in control of him. Loki dreaded and delighted in sensation of the thick cock pistoning in and out of his mouth and throat, the hands roughly twisted in his hair, his own struggle to breath in time with Thor's thrusts, sweat and tears running in rivulets down his face, plastering strands of hair to his cheeks. Loki was immersed in the pull and drag of Thor's cock, the pleasurable pain of his hair being use to steer his head, the meeting of his face with Thor's delicious crotch. Tears rolled of their own volition down his face as he began to sob from the effort of keeping his lips sealed around Thor's cock, and ensuring that Thor felt only the welcoming wet and smoothness of tongue and cheek. Thor ignored the choked sobs, keeping Loki kneeling on aching knees, kept upright by Thor's grip on his face and his own grip on Thor's waist as his whole world became Thor and what Thor's pleasure demanded of him. The pleasure that Thor pushed into his mouth travelled straight down into his groin, driving him towards his own peak, though his own cock was utterly neglected. No doubt Loki looked a debauched mess; he felt like one, a sobbing, debauched mess ready to beg his master for mercy. 

Thor was speaking, muttering really, words that Loki had heard before but not quite in that tone about how beautiful Loki was, how sweet his mouth, and words besides that Loki had not heard before, at least not from Thor like 'whore' and 'harlot' and 'doxy'. He turned tear-blinded eyes to see if he could discern any particular expression on Thor's face, and the look of dark delight he saw there sent a thrill of not-quite-fear along his spine, where it gathered around his balls and made him wonder for a moment if he was going to come, untouched, even before Thor.

Thor was panting in a controlled fashion, still uttering endearments and what he no doubt thought were insults at Loki, whose muffled sobs and copious tears could have been for Thor's harsh use of him or harsh words, either, perhaps both. Thor was close. Loki stroked Thor's hips, ass and thighs encouragingly, humming a plea for mercy that was accentuated by the tears in his eyes as he sucked and tongued Thor's cock.

Thor gasped and shuddered to a halt, his knees almost giving way. He growled, "Ah, you slattern, you slut," and lost his speech as he came hard down Loki's throat. His spend was considerable, and Loki marvelled as Thor continued to pulse into him. He felt as if he must be glowing with arousal, his whole body attuned to Thor’s stuttering, surging climax.

Loki was beginning to worry about his lack of oxygen when finally, Thor began to more or less gently withdraw, still not quite spent, and painted Loki's face with his come. Loki gasped for air, every cell all over his body a-tingle with arousal and urgency. He didn't quite collapse on the floor when Thor let him free, but struggled to a kneeling sprawl, his face covered in tears and saliva and now Thor's thick, warm come.

Panting, he lay there for a long moment, and he heard Thor too struggling to regain his breath, though Thor had managed to stay standing, though too covered in sweat. 

Loki propped himself up on his elbow with some effort. Thor cleaned his crotch with a damp cloth, which he threw to Loki as he righted his clothing and armour. Loki caught it reflexively despite his surprise, and made a hoarse noise of outrage as Thor turned to go while muttering about being late.

"You are leaving me here, covered in your seed, to attend to your _schedule_? You will not attend to my needs after I serviced you so faithfully?" He did not quite point at the tent that had appeared in the towel around his waist.

Thor turned and grinned at him, and oh, how Loki adored and had missed that infuriating smug grin. It was so good to see this part of Thor reassert itself that Loki almost forgot to be outraged.

"I am not convinced you have learned the better of failing to give me your full attention, Loki. So I leave you here, in distress, and demand of you that you do not seek relief from your troubles until I return here with you tonight. Obey me in this, so I can be sure that your full focus is on me, and only me, throughout today."

With that, Thor turned on his heel and strode out of the room, cloak billowing in a non-existent breeze, before Loki could come up with a coherent answer.

 _Well_ , he thought, _blast that bastard Odinson_.

  
  



	11. Three Times Is A Pattern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading, and for helping me get this chapter into shape.

Loki sat for some moments, calming down. Demanding attention and then walking away leaving the other unsatisfied was a stunt that _Loki_ would normally have pulled, but he did enjoy it when Thor turned the tables on him. Surely this was proof that Thor was coming back to himself more and more, remembering the games they played with one another. Thor usually preferred being the victim of Loki's whims, crimes and misdemeanours though, so he could administer punishment accordingly. It pleased Loki to dance to Thor's tune for a change.

After cleaning up and deciding to clear his head with some air, Loki stepped out onto the streets of Sakaar. He hoped he wouldn't have cause later to regret the delicious, sticky dish purchased from a street merchant as he walked about aimlessly. In between bites, some instinct began to prick at him. He could not tell exactly from where or by what, but the sense of being watched was strong. Fading into obscurity again, the only evidence of his passing the swirls and whorls of dust at his feet, he wondered who would be following him and why? The Grandmaster was the only one he could think of...perhaps he was simply keeping an eye on his Champion's pet.

Arriving back at the Arena, he thought to indulge himself at the training pen watching Thor spar. Despite the disgusting nature of the contest, and his bone-deep aversion to slavery in any form, he still found the atmosphere of contest, competition and physical excellence an exciting one. 

In the gladiators' pen, instead of sparring as expected, Thor was again addressing a group of his fellow gladiators, seeming taller than any of them for all that he was surrounded by Kronans, Achernonians, Horusians and members of other towering peoples that Loki did not recognise. One of the gladiators, the same one as before, Loki thought, spotted Loki and gestured at him. _Strange. It’s as if he were on look-out._ The group of warriors all stepped away from Thor, seemingly ready to leave. Before they did so, Thor roared, "The Grandmaster, and the Contest of Champions!" His companions roared in unison, and went their separate ways.

Thor turned to Loki, grinning, and waved at him. As Loki approached, he reached one arm out in an easy embrace and kissed Loki on the temple, not too surreptitiously running a hand over the crotch of Loki's breeches too. "You are still thinking of me, and have good cause to, sorcerer, I hope. Or I will be displeased tonight."

Loki couldn't help but smile too, drawn in by Thor's good humour, though he batted his wandering hand away. The impudence. "I do so enjoy displeasing you, Champion, and taking the consequences, but I choose to obey you this time." He looked around, and took a deep breath. "You are prepared for this evening's fight?" He had confidence in his prince’s ability to overcome all-comers, but all the same, he did not like that Thor fought for his life every evening in this place. 

"Of course. Do not fret, Loki, the Grandmaster has not found an opponent that can best me yet."

Loki nodded. "Take care then. I will see you there."

As he turned to go, Loki could have sworn he saw the Grandmaster's sometime companion, Azin, round a corner ahead of him. What would the pretty man be doing in the gladiator's pen? Perhaps he had some rough trade down here, unbeknownst to the Grandmaster. Useful to know. He increasingly resembled the Grandmaster in dress and mannerisms, the flatterer.

Loki began walking towards his quarters, lost in thought again. Shaking himself mentally, he realised he could circle the conundrum of what to do endlessly and not come to a decision, unless he was honest with himself about the consequences.

And if he were to be honest, he would have to admit that stealing Thor away and bringing him home to Asgard was the only choice he could live with. Entertaining selfish fantasies of he and Thor together and untethered was all very well, but he could not do so in this place and tell himself that they were free. 

What would Sif think, and the Warriors Three, if Loki chose to be selfish here, to deny them their friend, their boon companion, their _king?_

Odin remained a mystery to Loki. Who knew what the greatest trickster ever to plot in the Nine Realms would think? He would not approve of Loki stealing his son and heir, that was for sure.

Loki knew for certain he would never be able to even look Frigga in the eye again if he had to explain to her why he kept her son, the apple of her eye, far from her, far from Asgard, furthest away from his true self.

He relaxed a little. The worst had been considered, and he had made a decision. He would steal a strong enough craft, inveigle Thor to join him, aim for the collapsing black hole and hope for the best. If he could sow some seeds of discontent with the Grandmaster among his citizens first, all to the good. It galled him to hold off on destroying the Grandmaster outright, though he had good reason; for one, he was not sure how powerful the Grandmaster was, and besides, he might prove to be the key to healing Thor, if that was possible.

As he passed through the corridors of the Arena, Loki caught sight of a Sakaarian in chains being taken towards the Grandmaster's wing by a group of guards, the dust of the street still on the unfortunate detainee's clothes. A working man, obviously, much like the food merchant from whose cart Loki had purchased his earlier meal. Why would any citizen be dragged off the streets by the Grandmaster's own bodyguard? There were too many things happening here that Loki did not understand. He did not like it.

All the same, lighter of heart, he went to the viewing platform to watch the contest. The Grandmaster waved him over with his disintegrator weapon with which he was far too heedless for Loki's liking. Sitting warily, Loki nodded at Azin, who looked back at him through, Loki realised, a mask of terror. Had he been caught in his illicit affair? Keeping his own face neutral, Loki realised there was another guest of the Grandmaster to Azin's right. It _was_ the merchant that had sold Loki his afternoon meal earlier, chained and gagged. He did not look well, at a glance. Loki was saddened by the sight, but he could not help the man, unless he succeeded in helping all Sakaarians by undermining the Grandmaster. 

The main event of the evening kicked off in the Arena. Loki watched nervously, disgusted as always, silently urging Thor to victory. Thor polished off with precise, surgical strikes his opponent, a grey-hued warrior that towered over Thor but could not match his speed or accuracy. Thor had shown himself increasingly controlled and strategic in his fights since the first night Loki saw him in the Arena, feral and bloodthirsty as he had been then. He fought more like his old self now, still no quarter given, but neither was he revelling in bloodshed as he had before.

To Loki's additional surprise, Thor did not immediately move in for the kill when his opponent gave him an opening. He brought the tall fighter to his knees, and paused, staring down at him as if he was toying with the man before he was to shove his blade into the man's throat. Unexpectedly, Thor paused in his pressing of his advantage, and simply held the blade still at his defeated opponent's neck. Even from the viewing platform above, Loki could hear the command in Thor's voice as he shouted, "Yield!" to his fallen foe. Loki shivered, partly in response to Thor’s tone, the tone of Loki’s master whether or not he and Loki acknowledged it, and partly in response to rising fear that things were about to spin out of Loki’s control. 

Silence fell throughout the stadium. Few could have heard Thor's order, but all could see what was happening. This did not seem to be something that _did_ happen. Loki had gathered that at the preliminary contests, which were more freewheeling and entertaining than the brutality of the main event each night, many of the fighters survived the bouts. The main event, however, was a fight to the death.

The Grandmaster was muttering, "No, no, what is he doing? He's ruining the atmosphere!" He stood, looking very put out, and shouted, "Finish him! What are you waiting for? Off with his head!"

 _How does he manage to sound so petulant yet so vicious at the same time?_ Loki was calm despite his fear, despite being unsure what his best move was here. He could only hope that Thor would see sense and finish his opponent, quickly and cleanly. Anything else would be seen as a challenge to the Grandmaster and Loki was not sure that this would be wise, especially with Thor's leash in the Grandmaster's hand in ways Loki did not understand yet and so could not counteract or exploit.

Thor, naive idiot that he always managed to be, tried sweet reason with the Grandmaster. "He fought well, Grandmaster! Has he not earned mercy, and the right to fight another day?"

The Grandmaster tutted, reached for a controller, and Thor went down in a twitching, agonised pile. Loki tensed. Thor’s opponent stumbled to his feet and grabbed a fallen weapon, wielding it hopelessly, knowing that as injured as he was, he alone had no chance of holding at bay the guards who swarmed over him, stabbing. He was left to die in a gurgling heap in the middle of the Arena. Thor was being dragged off to who knows where.

Enough. If the Grandmaster decided that Thor was too much trouble now, they were both in danger. It was time to go. Loki wished he had come up with a better plan, but readied himself to strike.

And found he could not. The Grandmaster was smiling at him, with an almost childlike look of curiosity on his face. Loki realised that that same unsettling feeling he had experienced that morning when the Grandmaster had touched him was rising again. Worse, he felt those spiderlike fingers not on his chest, but in his mind. It was horrifying. Before he could even think to do so, Loki was running away.

There was no cowardice in it; Loki was no more frightened than he felt the situation demanded, but his only hope to fight back was to flee and regroup if he could. He presumed this invasion of his self was the same as had been inflicted on Thor, and he hoped that his psychic, mental and emotional defences were better suited to fighting this violation than Thor's had been. He ran invisibly along corridors and teleported through walls that stood between himself and the Grandmaster's fleet, sure he could outrun whoever followed him. 

Resisting the urge to scrabble at his eyes, his face, in an attempt to rid himself of the Grandmaster's touch, he realised with increasing foreboding that he was approaching the balcony again. He had somehow doubled back, at speed, towards the place from where he had intended to escape. He teleported through a floor instead, stumbling as he landed, and made to run in the direction of the hangar again. A few moments later, he realised he was again heading directly towards the Grandmaster, standing impatiently by the elevator to return to the correct floor. Instead, he dropped down another floor, landing more gracefully this time. He stood still, angered, controlling his breathing, taking a moment to centre himself.

The Grandmaster's touch was insidious. He could feel it sliding along his mind exactly as he had seen it sliding along Thor's, seen that psychic influence in Thor's eyes. Loki could not shake it off, did not know how firmly it had found purchase in his head. He did not seem able to go to the spacecraft hangar as he wished. Well. It was all to the good that he had become distracted from his plan, he supposed. He could not truly have abandoned Thor here, especially now that he may be in immediate danger from the Grandmaster. He could not bear the thoughts of returning to Sakaar even if better prepared and with Thor's loyal companions, only to find Thor dead, or destroyed. He would rather die.

For him, long without a sense of home, he was beginning to accept that he belonged with Thor as much as Thor insisted it was so. What an unfortunate moment to come to that realisation.

So he was not leaving. What then? He could try to wrench Thor from his captor now, though he too now was apparently captive, and seemed effectively unable to wrench himself from the Grandmaster. It was hopeless, and he knew the most likely outcome of a challenge to the Grandmaster was that they would both end enslaved or dead. He wondered if he would get a clear shot at the Grandmaster before he fell. Probably not. This could very well be the end, in any way that was meaningful. If he and Thor were to live on, it would be as puppets, at best. He hoped that he could hold on to enough of himself, of Loki, to at least struggle on against captivity, no matter how uselessly.

If there was any way, any path to recovering himself, Loki would find it. He had already been the bound slave of a master far more formidable and terrible in his way than the Grandmaster, and he had turned that to his advantage. If Thor Odinson himself could not truly enslave Loki Laufeyson, then it was simply not Loki's fate to be anyone else's thrall. He would not accept it.

Not entirely to his surprise, he realised he was approaching the Grandmaster's viewing platform again. He had not even noticed his feet moving. Three floors he had walked, unknown to himself. This was clearly beyond his control; if he continued to resist, he would simply be worn down. Better to go with the current than fight it for the best chance of survival.

He went through the doors with all the arrogance of a warrior prince of Jotunheim, a prowling walk that he hoped made him look the predator in this situation. He could see that the Arena had emptied out now, a sucking silence replacing the roar of the crowd. Thor was sitting on the floor before the Grandmaster. He appeared conscious, but dazed, and the Grandmaster's fingers were in his hair, his hand resting on the crown of Thor's head. Loki felt a rush of uncustomary rage and jealousy crash over him. Before he could think to reign it in, he heard himself say, "He is not _yours_ to touch so."

"Aha, you're back!" said the Grandmaster, spinning his disintegrator weapon. "Let's have a little talk. You're not a very gracious guest, are you?"

Thor's eyes fluttered open. He gave Loki a suspicious look that did not have any recognition in it. Loki's heart dropped in his chest. Whatever the Grandmaster had done to Thor, no doubt to reinforce his will, it had set Thor as far back as Loki had seen. He himself still could not attack the Grandmaster. Could he even defend himself?

He barely noticed Azin cowering in the corner, having no pity to spare for the slight man in the face of this horror, nor did he pay any mind to the merchant who still remained trussed and gagged, his eyes pleading and full of terror.

Loki hesitated. He had done nothing to offend the Grandmaster that he could think of, other than gain the attentions of his Champion. True, he had just planned to attack the Grandmaster in the face of his love being shocked and dragged off to who knows what fate, but Loki thought that the Grandmaster had been suspicious of him before then. Rightly, of course, but why? What had Loki given away?

"Your little friend here, he won't talk. I'm bored with him now. Say bye bye." The Grandmaster raised his weapon and touched it to the unfortunate food merchant's chest. Loki found himself frozen, aghast, as the muffled screams were swallowed by the huge, gaping maw of the open Arena above them.

It took Loki a moment to speak, so horrified was he by the pointless cruelty. "Grandmaster, what...who was he? He sold me food this afternoon, what crime could he have committed to deserve death? What would he not speak of?"

Loki heard Azin whimper in the corner.

The vicious expression on the Grandmaster's face settled back into his usual oily smile. "Loki, don't try to pull the wool over my eyes! The cat's out of the bag, the beans have been spilled, the veil's been well and truly pulled back, mmm yes. How long did you think it would take me to uncover your little conspiracy? Since you've been floating around my little gatherings, there's been rumbles of a rebellion, a revolution, a party that I am certainly not throwing and haven't been invited to. Was your little friend there a food merchant, or was he a contact? I think I know!"

Loki replied tonelessly, "He was a food merchant. An innocent citizen. The victim of a paranoid madman."

The Grandmaster stared at him. He leaned forward and stared again, trying to detect a lie, Loki thought.

After a few moments, the Grandmaster replied, "Hmmm, really? Oh. That's a pity."

Loki shuddered in disgust. He walked over to Thor, bent down and reached out to touch his face, to look at him more closely. Thor caught his wrist and growled. Loki could not stand that alien intelligence lurking there in his eyes, curdling the handsome features of his Thunderer. Had Thor been scarred, Loki would still have found him beautiful, because it was his Thor. But Thor's unmarred features were nevertheless turning Loki's stomach as the cruelty of the Grandmaster crawled across Thor's face, more strongly than he had yet seen.

Loki tried again to summon his seidr, and failed, as if he simply lacked the will to do so, to affect the physical world. He chose to marshall it instead, in case he found an opening. "What have you done to me?" he said in a low voice, still looking at Thor, waiting for any hint of his Thunderer to surface. "And what have you done to him?"

"Oh, details," was the reply. "Look, I'm going to make your life easier. No choices, no struggles, just one overriding directive to make your life simpler and happier. And _mine_ simpler and happier. Like your friend on the floor here. Yes, good dog." The Grandmaster bent to pat Thor on the head. Thor did not look happy, but the Grandmaster was not focussing on him. Loki did not bother to hide from his expression the rage he felt. 

"Loki, I know you or your type anyways. Game recognises game, right? You're a liar and a cheat and a dirty, dirty thief. But I don't think I'll give you the chance to lie again no, no. Do you two really know each other from before? It doesn't matter of course, but you won't seduce him into revolting against me, no matter how he wants you. He's mine more than he is yours, isn't that right, pet?” He was still patting Thor’s head. Thor did not object. 

Loki was going to cut off the Grandmaster's fingers, one by one, and choke him on them.

The Grandmaster drew Loki up from where he was crouching by Thor, and Loki could but allow him. Nor could he stop him as spidery fingers drummed on Loki's chest, as Loki felt again something alien rummaging through his mind.

Utterly repelled, he drew upon his every mental, emotional and psychic resource to resist. He might hurt himself, injuries he had no means to tend, but he would not accept this without a fight.

Loki was far from Yggdrasil, but he was _Loki_.

The Grandmaster looked surprised as Loki pushed back, and in that moment, Loki felt something loosen and he lashed out. The Grandmaster's eyes widened as he felt near enough the full force of Loki's psychic strength batter at his own defenses. 

Loki almost immediately realised he had chosen his target poorly. The mind of the Grandmaster was a vast, powerful well, its defenses far too complex for Loki to pierce, at least with sheer force. The Grandmaster was beginning to round on Loki's attack, and his eyes glazed as he focussed on driving it back. 

Loki, more accustomed to fighting on several fronts, took advantage of the Grandmaster's momentary focus on the intangible and swept his leg so the Grandmaster stumbled backwards. Loki thought he might just have the advantage if the fight became physical as well as psychic. But then, suddenly, as Loki pulled his dagger from elsewhere, there was Thor. Thor, who was snarling at Loki now, near-bestial.

Thor leapt to his feet in a smooth movement, caught the Grandmaster mid-stumble, and somehow grabbed Loki's wrist as he stabbed for the still-flailing Grandmaster's heart through his armpit. Thor allowed the arc of Loki's attack to continue, using his momentum to continue forward and pulled Loki into him by the wrist, then twisted and slammed him to the ground. Loki's head bounced painfully as he saw stars. Dazed, he realised he was pinned, his silver worked bracelet digging into his wrist as Thor held him fast. Pure fury radiated from Thor as he used his weight and size to restrain Loki. The air pressure shifted, a hint of ozone evident, and Loki began to lose control of his fear. Tears pricked his eyes as he struggled uselessly to free himself from Thor’s strong grip. 

"Thor, no," he managed to mumble, as the Grandmaster flexed his seidr, testing Loki's psychic defences again. "Please, no. Do not allow this." He was looking straight into Thor's eyes, his fear met with pure rage, with barely a glimpse of his love there as the invading other once again dominated, with little of Thor to ameliorate the beast. "You swore to me."

"Oh, don't blame him," said the Grandmaster, attempting flippancy but clearly enraged by Loki's unexpected near success. "I have to top him up every so often, he has quite the strong personality, it keeps _resurfacing._ Very inconvenient. You now..."

Loki shuddered, mentally and physically as he felt the Grandmaster touch him with his physical fingers and rummage through his mind with psychic ones. His guts churned at the sensation and he could feel hot tears blossom on his cheeks. It was as though he were being hollowed out. Equally frightened and repulsed now, he tried to twist and turn away from the Grandmaster's touches.

"You're an easier prospect, oh my yes. Although, not really, a slippery thing, yes you are. Fragile? No, not fragile." An ugly smile spread across the Grandmaster's face. " _Brittle._ "

With that, Loki felt bridges and blockades, locks and bulwarks that he had constructed and built himself over his lifetime, supports and shelters that had been nurtured in him by others ( _Frigga,_ he cried out, silently), come crashing down. It was worse than physical pain, more profound, and impossible to relieve. Before he could even begin to come to terms with the rubble strewn across his heart and mind, before he could grasp being truly mad, he felt a new architecture being forced into his mind, holding it together, not healing the fractures, but pinning them together into a kind of functionality.

He had only one path to prevent this, and that was to destroy these new structures too, these alien thought processes that were being imposed on him. He began to mutter a spell, forced to speak aloud as his hands were still restrained and useless for spelling, when he heard Thor roar at him, the smell of ozone rising. Thor's eyes flashed white, and a bolt of lightning leap between them. Screaming in agony as the electricity grounded through the silver of his bracelet with his wrist pinned to the floor, Loki felt thunder roll through the room, and after that all was, for a moment, blessedly still.

Groaning, Loki sat up. He thought he might have blacked out for a moment. He was burned, not badly, but painfully enough. There was a dark spot on the floor where the lightning had finally grounded and dispersed after leaping between Thor and himself. The Grandmaster had been thrown a few feet away but looked more quizzical than anything else. Azin was rubbing his eyes, no doubt somewhat blinded and perhaps deafened by the strike.

Loki healed his most obvious burns and looked for Thor. Thor was standing at the lip of the viewing platform, gazing at nothing. Perhaps at the sky. It roiled more than usual, unnatural thing that it was.

He had drawn on his elemental seidr, if only barely, to defend the Grandmaster. Loki had not seen Thor manifest such once in the last days, and assumed he had forgotten how along with his other memories. It seems this too had resurfaced, even if in piddling form. Hopefully the Grandmaster would assume that there was little more to it than that display of almost nothing. Otherwise he would likely find a way to exploit Thor's vast powers.

Of course, if that pleased Thor, then that would not matter.

Loki shook his head, wondering at this strange thought. Of course it would matter. Thor would be horrified to be further exploited by the Grandmaster. Would he not?

Perhaps he should ask Thor if it would please him or not. After all, pleasing the Grandmaster was what pleased Thor, so what harm was there in that?

Loki could not quite grasp his thoughts. They slipped away from him and seemed to coalesce around one concern.

Thor needed to be pleased.

It wasn't an entirely alien thought. He was dazed by this ordeal, that was all. He did not hold out any hope of defeating the Grandmaster today, and he hoped that the Grandmaster -and Thor- considered him sufficiently defeated in turn. He was utterly drained and did not relish a beating from Thor or whatever inventive tortures the Grandmaster would offer him.

Thor had betrayed him. Violated him. Loki was aware that this was not Thor's choice, or decision, or wish. He was a puppet of the Grandmaster, as no doubt Loki was now. It still hurt, he could not rationalise what had happened, not now.

Nevertheless, Thor needed to be pleased. He felt the thought settle on him.

The Grandmaster came up on him without warning, and Loki got to his feet, not wishing to be prostrate before this creature.

The Grandmaster tipped Loki's chin up towards him with one finger. Loki tried not to grimace, as it would displease Thor. Thor wished for the Grandmaster to be pleased, so Loki too would do what he could to please the Grandmaster. It seemed a strange thought but he could not see why.

"Mmm, my, uh, suggestion seems to have taken, even though you are stubborn. I didn't have to suppress any memories at least, whew, that would have been _really_ hard work! I'd have kicked you to the kerb and not bothered bringing you over to the winning team here, only my Champion would have pouted. His happiness is important to me, you know. And to you too of course." The Grandmaster smiled that ugly smile again. "And now it is the only thing that is important to you, right? You kids will be so happy together. You keep that big guy happy, you hear? And he'll keep me happy, my Champion, in my contest of champions! Now, you." He waggled a long finger at Loki. "No more running around trying to start a revolution under my feet. Got it?"

Loki had not had a chance to start a revolution, and besides, he just wanted to create a fuss and steal away with Thor. The Grandmaster seemed pleased at the thought of preventing him from doing so though, so Loki did not disagree with him. It would displease Thor if he did.

"So tell me, Loki, who has been conspiring with you, eh? You were so subtle and had such a light touch at my parties, it took me a few nights to realise what you were up to, and then I realised you had been talking to everyone who was anyone, right under my nose! Come on, spill the tea. Who among my party guests was going to get all dramatic and go for the ol' heave ho of yours truly? Tell the truth, now."

Loki looked at him, still dazed. The truth? That was easy. "No-one I spoke to at your party was interested in revolution, Grandmaster. None at all."

The Grandmaster clapped his hands in delight. "Super! No-one important then. No leaders." He cut his eyes in the direction of the meagre remains of the food merchant. "Just peasants, and a few gladiators, possibly. There's a high turn-over there, mainly in gladiators, but kind of in peasants too. This isn't a good place to live if you're poor, not at all."

Movement in a corner of the room caught Loki's weary eye. He had forgotten about Azin, who looked wrung out, and was certainly less immaculate than Loki had ever seen him. Azin looked uncertainly at Thor, who was unheeding, mouthed "I'm sorry" at Loki, and then slipped away with nary a word to the Grandmaster. Strange. Loki could not think what Azin was apologising for.

"All's well that ends well," declared the Grandmaster, to no-one in particular. "Champion! What say you! Are you happy?"

Thor turned, as if in a waking dream, and the beast was clear in his features. "Yes, Grandmaster." He walked over to where Loki stood, and only then did Loki realise he was barely holding himself up. Thor admired his prize, running a thumb along Loki's jawline, and in a familiar gesture, brought Loki's hand towards him to kiss his palm. "Thank you, Grandmaster," Thor said, and wrapped a possessive arm around Loki's waist. Loki's head felt very fuzzy. He was having difficulty standing, never mind thinking.

They walked together to the Grandmaster's private quarters with the Grandmaster prattling away. He seemed to think that Thor's lightning bolt had actually been created by Loki but had backfired. Loki decided not to correct him because that could be construed as rude and Thor would be displeased.

Loki managed to stay awake for a brief celebration in the Grandmaster's rooms. Azin reappeared as if he had never gone, once again smooth and polished and as pretty as the Grandmaster could want. He seemed completely unperturbed by the events that had just taken place. A trickster, thought Loki. A seducer and liar and an actor. To what end? His head was too fuzzy to put things together. Thor kissed Loki in full view of the Grandmaster, who looked excited at the display, but to Loki's relief, did not suggest more.

At one point, unable to continue feeling the pain of Thor's betrayal, and exhausted to the bone, Loki zoned out for he knew not how long. When he came to, feeling inutterably sad, Thor was holding his left hand but giving his full attention to some of the Grandmaster's toadies, and Azin patting his right hand, gently trying to rouse him.

"Are you alright?" Azin asked discreetly, concern in his eyes.

Loki took a moment to think about it. His thoughts were like treacle. Finally, he looked at Azin again.

"My heart," he said, "is broken."

Azin frowned and blinked rapidly for a moment, as if he had something in his eyes. He squeezed Loki's hand and whispered, "All will be well, sorcerer."

Afterwards, in their own apartments, as Loki undressed for bed, Thor took his face gently in his large hands. "All will be well, Loki. In the meantime, I will work to please you as much and more as you please me. You know this, sorcerer."

Loki smiled, because it would please Thor. "I know," he said.

Thor did not look as pleased as Loki had expected. Before he could think what to say that would properly please, Thor dropped his hands to Loki's, and rubbed his thumbs in Loki's palms.

"You please me as you are. All I want is Loki," he said, softly.

"Too late," replied Loki, without thinking, and flinched. It was true, Loki was gone, for all intents and purposes, and had been replaced by a facsimile, but it would not please Thor to hear so.

He waited for Thor to react, unsure what to do, his heart beginning to pound.

"Loki..." Thor seemed deeply saddened. He looked suddenly at where his hands were holding Loki's. "Your bracelet. It has been damaged."

Loki looked at the inside of his wrist where it seemed the fine detail on his bracelet, a silver replica of Mjolnir on a leather band gifted to him by Thor some time ago, had been blurred by the heat of the lightning blast. Thor gently peeled it from his wrist, and there on Loki's pulse point was a burn in the pattern of Mjolnir. It would seem Thor had marked him again.

Thor kissed an apology to the inside of Loki's wrist, lips brushing the burn gently. Loki realised he could not remove this new mark without displeasing Thor. It was fine, he had made greater sacrifices. It was a matter of only a moment for Loki to repair the damaged nerves under the scar, the pain of which he had barely noticed.

Loki fell back into the bed, naked, and turned on his side away from Thor as was his habit. Thor curled around him and wrapped a strong, comforting arm around his waist. He was unsettled all the same, unhappy, desperation crawling under his skin, hopelessness barely contained.

His eyes were closing as he heard Thor whisper, "Be easy, sorcerer. All will be well."

Thor gently stroked a thumb over the pattern of Mjolnir now marking the inside of Loki's wrist. As he fell into sleep, he thought he heard Thor murmuring something. 

"Hold fast, Loki, my love. A storm is coming."


	12. Let Loki Be Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading

When Loki next became fully lucid, he was tied belly down on Thor's bed, wrists and ankles lashed to the bedposts, and the length of his torso from his shoulders to the back of his knees was singing with pain. His cock was hard, his hole sensitised and twitching, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Another strike seared across his backside, driving a groan from him, followed quickly by a snarl.

"Ah, there you are," came Thor's voice, out of his line of vision.

There was a pause, and Loki felt Thor's familiar weight behind and then on top of him, Thor's presence surrounding him as his hands came to rest on either side of Loki's head. Loki could feel the thickness and heat of Thor's cock in the cleft of his ass, the powerful thighs near his own as they knelt inside his spread legs. The weight of Thor's body made Loki's skin flare with hot stinging pain and arousal, and he barely held in another groan of hurt and want as his cock twitched.

He could recall the last few days, and remembered well enough obediently lying down on the bed this evening to be tied and teased and whipped. The memories had a surreal quality, as if he was watching from underwater, and through a mirror to boot, but he could recall them.

He could also recall Thor's betrayal.

"What do you want, Thor?" He bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking further.

"Just you, sorcerer. I tire of the sycophancy that the Grandmaster's version of you inflicts upon me. It is a poor counterfeit that he has burdened me with." A kiss was pressed to his cheek, fond and mocking at the same time. The Beast was in good form tonight, it would seem.

Loki said nothing. There was plenty to say, but he had no interest in it.

Thor did not seem bothered by his silence. "I guessed that a little pain would focus you. I may have become a little carried away." There was a grin in his voice as he pressed his cock, heavy and hot, against Loki's ass. Loki bit down a whimper at the deliciousness of the sensation, and the hot scratchy feeling on his freshly whipped back and buttocks made all the more present by Thor's skin sliding against his.

Thor idly canted his hips against Loki's backside a few more times, his cock full and heavy. Getting no reaction from an obstinate, fuming Loki, he slid from Loki's torso to lie beside him. Loki could not help a sharp intake of breath at the sweet and stinging friction of Thor's bare skin against his own. Thor kissed between his shoulder blades, sending sensuous tremors down his spine and along his cock.

"Deep breath, now," Thor murmured, circling Loki's already well-prepared hole with a finger. No, a thumb.

Loki shivered and groaned. His whole body tingled in pain and need. His wrists and ankles ached at being so tightly bound. He could not judge how long Thor had been teasing and tormenting him, but long enough that he was rather desperate.

Thor's large, impatient thumb was pressed shallowly into Loki's fundament, drawing a pained whine from him with its force. The pressure was not exactly uncomfortable, thanks to oil and the stretch, but invasive and unsettling. Thor did not appear to notice or care how helpless he was making Loki feel.

"Come now, Loki. Play along."

 _Play...?_ "This is not a game, Thor! This is not play! And if it were, we are both losing!"

"Not true, sorcerer. Certainly, we are not winning as yet, but I cannot explain the rules to you for the moment. You will have to trust me. You _will_ trust me."

With that, Thor twisted his thumb and pressed deeper, forcing a grunt from Loki. He whimpered at the deepening ache. Every part of him was supersensitised, and Thor's handling was thoughtless, unthinkingly causing an uncomfortable spasm of something like pleasure deep enough inside of him for it to make him feel even more helpless. There were going to be bruises inside Loki unless he was lucky. The unpleasant pressure sent sensations sweet and painful to his groin, and he whimpered outright as Thor circled the thick digit inside him, teasing deeper inside with no qualms or concerns for Loki.

He could feel the brush of the thumb near enough to his sweet spot to be tantalising as well as sore, and whined as Thor circled and pressed on it heedlessly. Loki didn't know if he wanted more or wanted less, but he could barely move in his restraints so it hardly mattered as he could do nothing about it anyway, nor for his cock which was aching and weeping for relief.

Thor's thumb withdrew, leaving Loki feeling empty, and for a moment the lack of pressure and sweet pain was worse than its presence. As he panted and struggled to adjust to the feeling, he yelped in pain and surprise when two thick fingers breached him unexpectedly. Thor jammed both into Loki's ass, deeper than the thumb had been before, deliberately invasive and painful. Loki's body was utterly confused as to how to feel about the unexpectedly fast intrusion and unsettling aching excitement radiating from where Thor's fingers bore down inside him.

Loki gave a guttural groan and tried to kick out instinctively, which did nothing but cause him to clench and move about on Thor's fingers, to Thor's evident amusement. It felt sore and intrusive and wrong, and hot tears gathered as the throbbing not-exactly-pain expanded with a curl of Thor's fingers, at the frustration of being tied down and helpless. Loki let out a sob as the fingers twisted in him, curled, explored his insides.

Apparently encouraged by the groan, Thor changed the angle of his wrist and twisted his hand so both fingers were now completely inside Loki's passage. Loki cried out again at the intrusion, his hips bucked in a useless attempt to escape, his wrists and ankles twisting uselessly in their bonds. It was if the sensation of Thor's fingers was radiating outwards to his fingers, his toes, his scalp, his cock; he could feel their movement inside him and everywhere. He squirmed uselessly as Thor sawed his fingers in an in-and-out motion, too uncomfortably, too achingly deep, his rim now burning as the large fingers dragged back and forth.

Thor sought out and stroked along the firm bundle of sensitive tissues that pulsed pleasure along Loki's lower body, forcing gasps from him in tandem with Thor's teasing. Loki's cock, already weeping and needy, strained and twitched in sympathy with Thor's rhythm, and he began to pant as the sweet discomfort started to build.

"Please, Thor..." He did not know what he was begging for, but Loki needed to say something, needed to say Thor's name, needed him to stop what he was doing, or do it more, or do it differently, he did not know what. He just knew he couldn't stand what Thor was doing to him now and stay quiet.

"Hush, Loki. I'll be finished soon."

"Please, please, Thor." Loki's voice was a hitching sob now as Thor continued his assault on Loki's prostate. Loki rutted into the bed as best he could, but had nothing near enough give on his restraints to get any relief, or escape the sensations Thor drew from him.

" _Quiet_ , Loki. You will be quiet."

Thor's fingers were withdrawn to a disbelieving whine from Loki, which mortified him. He had not intended to play Thor's game. Nevertheless, his hips bucked again reflexively as much as they could, seeking Thor's invasive fingers, and he was rewarded with three this time, pushed in again too quickly. It came as a shock, the burning stretch of three large digits breaching him causing him to cry out. Desperately, hopelessly, Loki flexed his body again to test the bonds, to see if he could get away from the touch, but he was held tight. Thor knew Loki's escape techniques by now, and there was no give at all in the ropes, no leeway for him to twist and writhe, except uselessly on Thor's fingers.

He dropped his head to muffle the noises he was making, and found himself begging again, into the pillow his time, but even still this displeased Thor.

Thor scoffed and withdrew his fingers again, leaving Loki alone once more with the aches and thrills throbbing through him. Loki lifted his head from the pillow as he felt Thor's weight shift and move from the bed, but he couldn't see where Thor had gone. Was he going to be abandoned in this state? "Please, Thor, I'm sorry, I'll be good, don't.... _aaaaah_!"

His pleas were cut off by a scream as he felt a lash across his backside again. Whatever implement Thor had picked up, it felt like a lick of flame on his skin. Thor took his time choosing another spot, and brought the lash down viciously. Loki screamed again, and tried to call to Thor, but before he could properly regain his breath, the lash striped across his backside again and he screamed once more, hopelessly.

The growing agony was a distraction from the still burning sexual torment that Thor had inflicted on him, but not much. The sensations began to feed each other, the cut and burn of the lash on Loki's skin driving the radiating aching pleasure in his lower belly to new sharpness, the pulsing of the dull aching pleasure in his ass and cock fanning the flames of the stripes on his backside already alight with sharp fiery agony. Loki started to beg again, calling Thor's name, begging for a respite from the whip, but every time he cried out Thor's name in heaving sobs, Thor seemed to redouble his efforts, his back and ass and thighs aflame.

Eventually, Loki's pleas were reduced to wordless moans, high pitched yelps as the tip of the lash caught his skin particularly sharply, and gasping sobs as he could no longer find the energy to beg Thor for mercy.

Thor paused in his whipping, but any relief Loki felt at the absence of new pain was smothered by the shock and fear he felt as Thor pushed the cheeks of his ass apart with the thumb and forefinger of one hand to better expose his hole, still holding the lash in his other hand. A thrill of horror and disbelief shot through him. Thor was not going to...

Loki was not quite able to process his terror before he felt hot breath on his sore backside and he let out a loud gasp as a hot, dextrous tongue circled his hole and lapped at it. Loki's hips tried to snap forward as he cried out at the tongue now travelling down to his balls, swirling as it went, and the hot wet firm feel of a stripe being licked back up to his hole drew a disbelieving moan from him.

"Thor..." he moaned, unable to stop himself.

Thor growled, a delicious sensation for Loki, given their relative positions, but withdrew his tongue and slapped Loki hard on his pained backside. Loki yelped, tears springing to his eyes.

"You will be _quiet_ , Loki. I do not wish to hear your words, especially not my name from your mouth, do you understand, Trickster? Do I need to beat you even more to drive the lesson home?"

Loki whined, unsure as to whether he was allowed to properly respond. Thor smacked him hard again.

"Good."

After a moment, Thor bent back to his work, and just as Loki felt tongue circling his hole again, Thor's oiled hand slipped under his hip and settled on his crotch. His aching, neglected cock was grasped firmly and expertly worked, to Loki's surprised and grateful relief. He was not grateful for long as Thor began to lick and suck at him in earnest, in rhythm with his hand, the dual, or were they triple, nay, quadruple and more sensations beginning to get too much for Loki.

He started to pant, every part of his body alight, the still burning whip marks on his skin, the pumping, throbbing pleasure being coaxed from his cock, the delicate, skilled suckling of his intimacy, the deep ache and pleasure from his rough treatment from Thor's fingers earlier, all combining in a thrumming thrilling heat. His panting turned to sobbing as Thor's tongue invaded him, and sobbing turned to full on bawling as that tongue swirled and licked inside him, sucked and lapped at him in tandem with the hand attending to his cock.

He felt Thor's grunt of laughter as he bawled and squirmed, completely overwhelmed. He was simply trying to stay afloat in a sea of sensation over which he had no control, no hope of escaping, so immersed in the feelings that he could not quite imagine a climax to this, an end to this exquisite torture and torment. The pillow was soaked now with his tears and drool and he was only able to catch stuttering breaths in between sobs.

He could only moan and pant as Thor finally withdrew his favours.

Thor positioned himself again between Loki's spread thighs, and pressed his cock against Loki's welcoming entrance. Pushing in with one motion, flush to Loki's hips, he paused for a moment, no doubt to savour the pained groan from the man beneath him as Loki felt his body open up and accept the intruder. Speared on Thor's cock, Loki was unable to distinguish between pleasure and pain now, and he shook his head in denial as Thor started to rut into him. Thor laughed again.

"You wish for me to stop, Loki?"

Loki did not know what he wished, with Thor's cock pistoning in and out of him. He wished for this to be over, he could not bear for this to end, he could not endure another moment, he wanted to stay lying here with his skin on fire, the ghost of Thor's hand on his cock and the ache of Thor's fingers inside him, he wanted Thor to fuck him hard, without mercy, until he blacked out and did not have to deal with this any more.

He buried his face in the wet pillow and began to quietly sob, still gasping each time Thor drove home. He could feel every inch of the Thunderer deep inside him, beautiful, large, dominant, demanding.

Thor laughed a low laugh, and continued fucking him. Each snap of his hips drove the breath from Loki. It was humiliating, and it was glorious. Thor paused for a moment, and, cock still deep in Loki's ass, leaned over to free Loki's right arm, only to pull his wrist behind him and up his back, bending his arm at the elbow. He was restrained completely, just in a different, more personal way. Despite it all, Loki's skin felt as if it was glowing with pulsing pleasure and pain, inside and out.

Thor resumed pounding into him, leaning on Loki's wrist to truly drive home who was in control, as if Loki was aware of anything else with a cock pounding him while he was pinned down. He had no leeway at all now, he could not even wriggle, so he lay there and took it, crying out each time Thor bottomed out in him, pushing him closer and closer to his climax. Thor had grown all the more excited as Loki passively accepted the cock pounding him, clearly revelling in his control of Loki, of the sounds he was forcing from him. 

Thor came first, pausing for a moment before hot bursts of seed pulsed into Loki, sending Loki over the edge with him. Loki whited out for a long moment in agonised pleasure, no sense of place or time or even his body; he was pure sensation. He came to as Thor collapsed on him, seemingly unconscious. Loki lay there, spent, for a long moment, exhausted and suddenly thirsty, emotionally drained but physically satisfied, and very very sore.

He tried to roll Thor off, but could not, and tried instead to undo the ropes at his left wrist, Thor's weight pinning him down. He gave up, and passed out.

Waking he knew not minutes or hours later, Thor was undoing the last of the ropes restraining him. He rolled over slowly, groaning, massaging the shoulder of the arm that Thor had pinned behind his back as he fucked him. Thor smiled down at him. It had much of the beast in it, but enough of Thor for Loki to relax.

"Is your shoulder sore, sorcerer? I am sorry."

Loki gaped at him. "I'm sore _all over_ , you prick. Inside as well as out. Was that necessary?"

Thor laughed and kissed his hand. Loki batted him away.

"Be sweet to me, Loki. I worked hard to bring you back, although I confess I enjoyed doing so, particularly when you were truly present. You were hiding in there behind the barriers the Grandmaster created in your mind, afraid of the pain, I think. I had to make it more painful for you to stay there than to emerge and scold me for tormenting you. And it was a successful strategy, was it not?"

Loki grumbled a little. Then he said, "Get me some cold water, please. I am very thirsty."

Thor brought him as he asked, and watched as he drank. He relaxed a little, and began to feel a torpor steal over him.

"None of that," said Thor, grasping his jaw.

"You are hurting me," gritted Loki.

"I am keeping you present. It gets easier, but the Grandmaster will reinforce his control every so often. Each time, I find myself coming back stronger, but in truth, I am never fully sure of whether I am in control moment to moment or not."

With that, Thor picked Loki up and carried him bridal style over to the bath, and lowered him into the coolness of the flowing water. This was the closest Loki had seen Thor to being Thor for some time. Loki would normally grumble at being picked up thus but could not find it in himself to object to being coddled. He hissed as the water enveloped his most tender parts. Thor had been meticulous with the whip. 

"Thor...what do you remember now? Has your memory returned at any point?"

Thor began washing himself. "No," he said, regretfully. "As far as my memories go, I sprung fully formed as a warrior in this accursed contest some weeks ago. As I gained control over myself and saw the injustice and violence here, I began to realise there was more to me, and to my circumstances, than I was aware of. But I remember nothing. I _know_ things, though. I know you. I know I love you. I know I am a leader, and that I am nothing if I do not embrace my role as servant to those I lead. Sometimes I say things that I do not fully understand but I know them to be true."

Loki felt he should be asking something, to better understand their circumstances, plan for their escape, keep them safe in the meantime, but it was difficult to focus. Thor seemed to understand his difficulties, and tugged him by the hair.

"Stay with me, sorcerer. If you allow the Grandmaster's influence to push you back under, you will remember little of what we speak about here, and it is important that we speak now, while I too am lucid. I barely remember most of our conversations, Loki, and probably am unaware of some of them."

Loki focused on Thor's voice, his touch and presence, to keep centred. "You...change, Thunderer, moment to moment. Sometimes I am speaking to my love, or someone close enough to him, sometimes you seem a stranger, and it is difficult to tell which I am getting."

Thor sighed. "It is as if I am seeing through a veil most of the time. You are right to be wary of me, even when I am as present as I am now. Sometimes, I find myself behaving as the Grandmaster wishes without knowing it, other times I act in accordance with my true nature, and do not think of the consequences. It has proven dangerous, especially when it draws the attention of the Grandmaster."

"So I noticed three nights ago at the Arena," said Loki, drily. "You risked your own stupid, noble skin to save your opponent. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." Thor frowned, disturbed. Loki placed a hand on his. "A sliver of my true self broke through because I was impressed by the bravery and skill of my opponent. I was too exhausted from earlier in the day to fully grasp the situation, to realise that I was risking death at the hands of that madman. It's a shame though. The warrior I fought deserved a better end than death at the whim of a tyrant."

Loki thought for a moment. "Thor...what were you doing earlier in the day that exhausted you so?"

Thor smiled at him. "Why, planning a revolution of course."

Loki nodded. He should have seen that before now. Thor surrounded by the gladiators, clearly the leader of these women and men who should have been a ragtag bunch, who were instead coalescing around the shining sun that was the Thunderer. The meetings that Loki had interrupted. Their lookout had warned them of the arrival of Loki, an unknown quantity, each time, and more recently they had finished their meeting with a cheer for the creature they intended to bring down, and his monstrous contest. Smart. Sneaky. Probably doomed to failure.

Loki sighed inwardly. He would fail to persuade Thor to abandon his newfound companions and their likely hopeless quest, but he was going to try anyway. He quickly calculated which arguments would be most persuasive to Thor, and took a deep breath.

"Thor..."

"No, Loki."

"But..."

" _No_ , Loki."

Well, that was that. He suspected anyway that if they did manage to make it off-planet, his compulsion to return to the Grandmaster might force him to come back, which scuppered running away as a realistic option in any case.

His eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him. "So, it is like this. You have been spending time with your little rebel army, they have been taking all your time and attention, leaving you too exhausted to be present for when you are in _my_ company. Which in turn has left me not simply without your companionship but also having to deal with the Grandmaster's creature, that _beast_ that walks in your skin? Is that what has been happening?"

"Ah, Loki. Do not be jealous of them, or angry with me. I have not been my whole self even once while here, not even in this moment." He cupped Loki's face in his palms. "This, now, is as close as I have come to regaining myself, and it is because of you."

Loki glared at him, not convinced. Jealousy was unfamiliar to him, and he did not like it, but he could not help a jealous anger at Thor's fellow fighters who had kept more of Thor for themselves than Loki had seen since arriving in this thrice-accursed trash planet. Nor could he help feeling abandoned by Thor to the mercies of the beast.

"Loki. Loki! What choice had I? We cannot defeat the Grandmaster alone, we two. I sacrificed time with you in order to best prepare for us being together again. I like it no more than you. We have both lost out in this, but it will be for the betterment of all, including us."

Loki pouted for a moment, and then sighed, defeated as always by Thor's earnestness and noble intentions.

Thor smiled at him. "And this beast, as you call him...when I am aware enough to share his experiences, you seem to have him as well in hand as you have me. He _is_ me, Loki, just without empathy, without a conscience, without joy, without _love_. You bring him closer to who he is, who I am, who we are supposed to be, each time he is reminded of who you are to him. When you remind him of what his heart wants."

A stab of almost physical pain shot through Loki as he remembered Thor's betrayal of him, only days before. "So, when you had me pinned down and unable to defend myself when the Grandmaster reached into my mind and destroyed much of it, it was simply a failure of mine to remind you of what your heart wanted?"

"Loki..." Thor hesitated. "Do not be bitter. I do not remember that, but I remember the aftermath. I woke several feet from you, having struck you with lightning. _Lightning._ I never imagined myself capable of such a thing, and then I just knew that this was part of me. I remembered the skies, and the winds, and rains. And I felt that a storm was coming, a storm of my making. Then, I knew all would be well."

Loki was silent, trying to manage his anger and bitterness. He understood it was not of Thor's volition that he had been held down by him and subjugated to the will of the Grandmaster, but it was still Thor who had done it. He rubbed absently at the Mjolnir-shaped scar on his wrist with a thumb.

Thor caught both his hands in his.

"Loki. I feel that already there was an imbalance between us, a debt that I could never repay in a lifetime. I cannot explain it, but I know it to be true."

Loki looked at him warily. "What if there were, Thunderer?"

Thor looked saddened. "This is old ground then. And I have added much to my debt, I fear. And you will allow me to spend a lifetime trying to earn your forgiveness for this trespass too. I demand it of you, and you will grant me this."

Loki smiled despite himself, and rolled his eyes. This was certainly Thor. And it was not time to address it. 

"Well, then, Thunderer, first let me join your revolution. A sorcerer in the mix will be necessary if you wish to defeat a being of such power as the Grandmaster."

Thor looked regretful. "The Grandmaster suspects you already. He will continue to keep a careful eye on you and question you when you are at your most vulnerable to him. I cannot have you join us. I can only hope you will even be able to keep this conversation to yourself should you be questioned. I myself am a huge risk to the very revolution I have planned, always at risk of revealing all to the Grandmaster should he simply ask."

Loki tried not to let the hurt show on his face, but did not think he succeeded. He was too tired to control his features properly.

"Loki." Thor kissed his cheek now. "It will all be well. We have some difficult days ahead, but we will be together, will we not? I do not remember all of how you and the 'beast', as you call him, are together, I can little influence his behaviour." He smiled tiredly. Loki could see the feral expression of the Beast grow stronger in his countenance.

Ah, Loki really was thinking slowly. Another thought surfaced, an anxious one. "Thor, the Grandmaster has implanted in you a deep and vicious loyalty to himself. What if he calls on that when you fight against him?"

Thor was beginning to look truly exhausted. "I do not know. I will overcome him somehow."

 _Or he might completely destroy your mind when he realises you are impossible to control_ , thought Loki. 

Another important question occurred to Loki as Thor faded behind his own eyes.

"Wait! Thor! What did you mean when you said that a storm was coming?"

Too late. The beast looked back at him, fully present.

The beast did not respond to him, but rose and began to dry himself. Loki looked at his broad back, the muscles rippling as Thor wiped himself down, wrapped his waist in a towel, and turned to face him. He looked as if he were to say something, but instead reached for the fruit bowl and took an apple.

"So, sorcerer, you have come back to me." He took a bite from the apple.

Loki frowned, tiredness rising in him again, dragging him under, stopping him from parsing Thor's meaning. "I do not understand."

Thor beckoned to him, taking another bite from his fruit. It would please Thor to be obeyed, so Loki arose from the bath, took a towel and approached him. He hoped he was not about to be beaten. He had tried to please.

To Loki's surprise, a gentle hand was placed on his face, and after a moment, Thor said, "I finally see a spark of Loki in your eyes. These past days, you have been bludgeoning me with a toadie from the nine hels! I cannot bear your obsequiousness any longer."

Loki felt himself shake awake a little. "I am to please you, Thor. The Grandmaster instructed me to do so, and so I must obey."

Thor growled. "Then please me as Loki would please me! Not as the Grandmaster would expect you to please me, by smiling prettily and vacantly, by bending over at my whim, by dancing attendance on me. I am deathly sick of this vapid puppet Loki! If you wish to please me, sorcerer, let Loki be Loki!" His words were angry but his hand was gentle still on Loki's cheek.

Loki ducked his head and swallowed, completely uncomprehending. The beast dropped his hand, and Loki heard him take another bite of his apple, crunch through it, swallow. Loki looked up. The beast was watching him, that dangerous look of one unbound by ethics, by convention, by decency, only bound by his own needs and wants. Loki saw possessiveness in that look, frustration, and to his surprise, concern, almost a question.

He tried to explain himself by saying again, "The Grandmaster instructed me to please you, and so I must..."

"Hush, sorcerer." Thor embraced him, pulled him close, and Loki felt warm lips pressed to his temple. "The Grandmaster's whims do not please me, do you understand? You are not his to command, you are _mine_."

This...was the simple truth. Thor was Loki's master, though that word was never spoken aloud between them. Instead, Loki said, "Yes, my prince. My king." Thor was all of those things to Loki, and more, and he was to be obeyed, and to be pleased.

It was not at the Grandmaster's whim that Loki was in thrall to his king. It was at Thor's. Always and only Thor.

Loki found himself before his prince on both his knees, hands on his thighs, head bowed, feeling serene for the first time since he had arrived on Sakaar, his mind calming for the first time since discovering that Thor had forgotten himself. 

Thor threaded his fingers through Loki’s hair and said, "I saw the Grandmaster ruin your mind, sorcerer, and pin the fragments back together with a steel bar of compulsion. The compulsion to please me. But is that so different from how we were before?"

 _No_. Loki was not sure if he had spoken aloud, but Thor seemed pleased. 

To Loki’s surprise, Thor too knelt, albeit on one knee, and placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder. He tipped Loki’s chin up with his other hand so they were face-to-face, blue eyes meeting green.

"Then please me. I would be pleased to have _Loki_ by my side, in my bed, loving me, lying to me, manipulating me, enraging me, entrancing me. I want the Loki who I have to drag to my bed and force to his pleasure, the Loki who kneels before me and pleasures me with a gleam in his eye that says he just might bite down this time, the Loki who would stab me in the eye if I truly displeased him..."

Loki grasped the Beast's forearms to steady himself as a tremor ran through him, as his perspective on who and how he was shifted unexpectedly and unpredictably. Thor gently pulled him to his feet, an arm around his waist, holding his hand.

When the world stopped tilting, Loki could still feel the Grandmaster's psychic tools in his mind. It did not matter. The complex but crude architecture was part of him, now, perhaps for always if he wanted to retain any semblance of sanity. But it was Thor's tool now, and he had gifted it to Loki.

He looked at the beast, who had an expression of hunger in his eyes, and a very Thor-like smugness. Loki reached over and kissed him, the scent of apple and of Thor almost overwhelming as clarity returned to him, and he adjusted to his senses being as sharp as they always were. Thor pushed him back on the bed, which drew some groans of pain as Loki landed on his still sore backside and back, and began to kiss him all over. It wasn't long before the demanding nature of the beast reasserted itself, though gently by his standards, and Loki found himself wincing and occasionally moaning in pain as well as pleasure as Thor took his own pleasure in him.

Far off in the distance of the dark and uneasy skies, Loki was sure he could hear something like thunder.

Later, in the barely lit room, as Thor lay half-atop Loki, chest to chest, legs entwined, a large arm thrown across Loki, Thor murmured, "The Grandmaster has made a fatal mistake, sorcerer. He knows it takes greater and greater effort to control me, but he still thinks I am his, and you also. But I am yet my own, and you are mine too, and never his in any way that matters. He will learn the better of enslaving me, and regret ever thinking he could enslave Loki Mischief Maker."

In the dark, Loki smiled like a wolf.

  
  



	13. Another Gift from Darkellaine: Art for The Whole of the Storm

Another beautiful gift from the wonderfully talented Darkellaine.

This is so inspiring to me. I can't speak to the artist's intentions, but for me, this piece of art captures so much about Loki and Thor in this story. Thor literally on his knees, power sparking in his eyes but helpless without Loki, grasping at Loki's hand. Loki looking to the side, to the future, Thor's mark clearly displayed on him. I just love this, and am immensely grateful and flattered.

Check out the original on here [Darkellaine's Tumblr ](https://darkellaine.tumblr.com/image/622739371543691264)

Check out Darkellaine's other work, including lots of Thorki **<https://darkellaine.tumblr.com/>**


	14. Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I ended up working backwards from chapter 19, and have six chapters banked now.
> 
> Loki has been freed from the Grandmaster's control by Thor, who unfortunately is still a victim to the Grandmaster's mind control for the most part. Loki plots to free him, Thor intends to take a more direct approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to im_not_rare_im_rarr for beta-reading, and for helping me tease out this chapter.

The next morning, Loki was contentedly and lazily washing Thor's hair, not too bothered about their present troubles or their upcoming ones. He knew he was being foolish and self-indulgent, but didn’t care. He felt clear of mind and secure of heart just sitting in the hot bath with Thor's broad back and shoulders before him while he poured a jug of water over Thor's head. It was just the two of them, together, as it always should be.

"It's not that your new style is unappealing, Thunderer," he mused, "But I do miss the braids. You used to wear a lock of mine intertwined with your own, once."

Thor hummed as Loki pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.

Thor spoke in a subdued voice, his first contribution to the conversation since waking. “Am I so different to your old lover, sorcerer?”

“Less hairy, certainly,” murmured Loki, distracted by tracing the falls of water down Thor’s back with his fingers. Absently, he thought he could hear a high-pitched whine coming from somewhere. He shook his head to clear his ears of water. 

"You...miss him, do you not?"

Loki stilled. "What do you mean? You are one and the same, at the end of the day."

Thor turned to look him in the eye.

"I understand that you wish me gone, sorcerer, and your real lover returned to you."

Loki did not quite know what to say, except the truth.

"You are _one_ and _the same_ , Thor. Why do you think I have put up with your nonsense all this time?" 

Thor did not respond. He seemed contemplative, unhappy.

 _"Thor."_ Loki slipped around Thor's bulk to settle on his lap so they were face to face. Thor refused to look him in the eye. Loki took Thor's face in his hands and appraised him for a few moments. "Ugh," he said.

Thor cut his eyes towards Loki, suspicious. "What?"

"Self-pity looks terrible on you, Thunderer."

Thor smiled slightly, looking more like himself. Loki smiled back. The Beast had not retreated, but had perhaps melted a little.

Which is probably why Loki was caught off guard by Thor's next words.

"You lied to me, Trickster."

Loki grinned mischievously. "Always, Thunderer. Which lie do you speak of?"

"The lie about who we used to be. I may have been your war-prize, but you were mine first, is this not so? I do not quite remember the details, so you may clarify if you will."

Loki sighed. "Yes, Thor. I was your prize first, the spoils of a war that my realm had all but lost the moment you defeated me on the battlefield. An insignificant victory, as far as I was concerned. I set about defeating you in your bed, and did so, a far more meaningful triumph."

Thor paused as if dredging up an old, dusty memory.

"My victory over you was in power and skill, and I took you to my tent and claimed you, is this not so?"

Loki growled. "Are you trying to provoke me, Thunderer? You may claim to have bested me, but it was far from a fair fight. Besides, it is in the past, and we have come to an understanding about the wrongs we had done each other."

Thor eyed him for a moment. "So you do not fear him despite the violence he did you? I know you fear me, Loki, I am not a fool."

Loki shook his head, frustrated. "You are one and the same! And I am always frightened of you, Thor. I near enough wished for death in the moments in your tent before and after you took me, and I will not forget that dread. I know more than anyone the depths of your cruelty. But you learned the better of such actions, and I learned to trust you, eventually. You taught trust to me with your belt and my desire. That trust is greater than my fear, always. For as long as you are worthy of it."

Thor settled back, somewhat mollified. "Still, sorcerer, you do not wish to stay here, as you said you would. You will return to Asgard and try to restore your love."

Loki sighed again. "Firstly, I said I would stay with _you_ , and that has not changed. And do not see betrayal where none exists! Perhaps you will be restored, but who you are now will be part of you still. If you remain as you are now, if this now is how and who you are and who you will be, I will love you no less. Believe me in this. Never doubt my love for you."

Thor was still wary. "For as long as I am worthy of your trust...?"

Loki was silent for a moment. "I have been a victim of the Grandmaster's influence as much as you, Thunderer. I understand the insidiousness of its nature, I remember how my thoughts and actions were beyond me, past my control. I don't blame you."

Thor took a deep breath. "I am supposed to protect you, sorcerer. Perhaps I cannot."

Ah. This was the reality that Loki had to face, and sooner rather than later, and it seemed Thor, though reduced in some ways to his most basic, bestial expression, had come to this understanding too. As ever, Thor the warmonger, the born warrior, the berserker, was far more insightful than he had any right to be, as Loki reckoned these things.

The Grandmaster, Sakaar, the Contest of Champions, the potential for a revolution....none of it mattered a jot in the face of the fact that he could no longer depend on Thor to be Thor. Even the Beast could see this.

He knew Thor was not invulnerable, Norns knew he had proven that himself, and quite brutally. An image of a helpless Thor on the rooftops of Laufey's palace, in pain and near unconscious but still trying to fight, flitted through Loki's head. He could almost hear his own voice hissing threats, old and irrelevant now, of rape, humiliation and pain, of the destruction of Thor's warriors, venomously promising to make shit of everything that Thor was.

Despite this, on some level, he had believed Thor near indestructible, partly in all likelihood because of how Thor had endured this mistreatment and more. Thor had still remained himself, a better man than Loki had taken him to be then. After Thor had taught him better of who each of they two were, through humility and strength and endurance as well as a precisely and painfully wielded leather belt, Loki had come to see Thor as immovable, unconquerable, anchored by sheer will and a dogged belief in himself.

Thor had become for Loki the sun around which all things circled, including Loki himself. Especially Loki himself. He had grown to depend on Thor to hold carefully Loki's sanity and his security, to define him and Loki together, no longer separate individuals, or at least not just that. They had become mirrors of each other, their opposing but complementary natures intertwining them and clarifying who they each were. Thor the king, the leader, belonging to everyone, Loki his own man, beholden to no-one but Thor. Thor the protector of all who needed him, Loki defending only what he considered to be his. Thor the shining hero, Loki the dark realist. Thor the blunt warrior, Loki the sly sorcerer. Thor the dominant, Loki the submissive. Thor the master, Loki the...

Well. They were equals, really, or had been before Sakaar, providing balance to each other. And that was the rub. Instead, Thor now circled the vortex that was the Grandmaster, no longer dependable, no longer sure. It was still shocking to Loki, seeing that sun dim.

That sun would shine again, he was sure of it. He would make sure of it.

And he could not bear the thought, the feeling of Thor, afraid and unsure of himself, especially while Loki felt the same.

And neither of them could afford for Thor to be unsure of himself. _Well then, time to remind Thor Odinson of who he is at his core. My backside might have to bear the brunt of the reminder, but I will not complain overmuch if the result is proper._

He pulled Thor backward by the hair, snarling, "Enough! Enough of this mewling! You are Thor, god of thunder, King of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms, and _my king!_ I will not have you governed by your fear, just as I will not have you governed by violence or your other base desires! You will not fear yourself in this moment! Better you allow yourself to ride your arrogance and headstrong oafishness than to fear your own self!"

With both hands, Loki then pushed an astonished Thor backward into the water so he fell out of his sitting pose and into an underwater sprawl. Loki had been sitting in his lap and had not anticipated being dumped in the water himself by Thor capsizing. They both spluttered as they righted themselves, glaring at each other.

Loki did not reign in his temper yet. "'Beat me in power and skill', have you? You ass! You have never truly tested me in battle! I do fear you, but deep down you know full well, in your heart of hearts, that you fear me too, Thunderer! Do not doubt yourself, for in doing so you doubt me, and I will not take that insult lightly."

Thor went from looking perplexed to looking thunderous. "An ass, you say?" Loki smiled to himself at Thor’s shift in mood. With one of those sudden tackles that always caught Loki off guard, Thor yanked Loki up to standing so they were facing each other in the pool, Loki trying to disengage Thor's hand from his upper arm. Thor bent and threw Loki onto his shoulder while Loki was still struggling to get away. Loki found himself upside down, hauled out of the bath, and flung bodily on to the bed.

"Defeated me in bed, did you?"

Before Loki had a chance to respond, he was turned so he was face down damply on the bed, one of Thor's large hands gathering his hands together and pinning them above his head, the other pressing down on his lower back, trapping him. In truth, he could have escaped a dozen ways over but his temper began to fade as Thor took control between them as he had hoped, and he was curious as to what Thor intended to do. 

"Stay as you are, Loki, if you know what's good for you. I will show you who has mastered whom in bed."

Loki dared to settle himself more comfortably, to which Thor growled, sending shivers through Loki. In apology, Loki showed his acquiescence by lacing his fingers together to indicate he was going to stay where he was put. Thor growled again, less with aggression and more with possessiveness and Loki shivered once more, a gasp escaping him. He felt Thor move so that he was kneeling beside Loki, who was still lying facedown on the bed, and removed his hands from Loki's wrists. Loki did not dare move despite being free to do so now.

Loki turned his head slightly to see what Thor was doing and felt Thor's warm, heavy hand settle on his backside. Thor moved to lean over him and Loki felt him beginning to make a jerking motion. Was he...? He was! Thor was pleasuring himself over Loki's prone body! A snarl of anger and humiliation rose from Loki before he could stop himself, and Thor chuckled.

"Quiet, Loki. I will demonstrate to you as much as necessary who between us rules here. How much do you wish to push me today?"

He resumed a slow steady jerking motion as he trailed his free hand over Loki's ass, running his fingers down the cleft and putting gentle pressure along the perineum, causing Loki to gasp again. This felt like Thor, Loki's Thor, more so than the Beast had done at any time before. The rough handling that was designed to overpower, but left Loki the space to acquiesce; the dominance that demanded Loki's co-operation, and...the humour. The Beast was closest to Thor when he showed humour. 

Loki relaxed muscles he had not realized were tensed, drawing a pleased noise from the Beast, who bent to kiss him between the shoulder blades, pausing his attentions to himself for a moment. Shifting over Loki's body, he straddled Loki's thighs and pressed forward, thrusting his cock lazily against Loki's ass. Loki was sure the Beast had no intentions of doing anything as intimate as penetrating him, but simply intended to gratify himself with minimum participation from Loki.

Loki found himself smiling, though annoyed as well as amused. It was what he had asked for after all. Thor was putting him in his place with barely any effort and an easy contempt, because he knew Loki would co-operate to please him. So it came as a surprise when Thor moved off him and pulled him by the hair so his face was close to Thor's crotch just as he started to come. Loki didn't mind particularly Thor spilling on his face; he quite enjoyed it in truth, but a little warning would have been more pleasant. His gasp of shock was what Thor had evidently been looking for. The glare he blinked at Thor between closing his eyes to prevent being blinded by Thor's seed seemed to satisfy the Thunderer just as much.

Thor smiled smugly, and took a few moments to recover before bringing a damp cloth to clean Loki's face, kissing it as he cleaned. "There, sorcerer. Think twice before your boasts, perhaps." Loki's scoff of disbelief provoked a hearty laugh from Thor, one Loki never expected from the Beast. It was clear though that more and more of his Thor was apparent in the Beast. The tide was certainly turning. 

He was glad to have restored Thor’s sense of self to some degree, but Loki still did not know whether he could trust him or not when it came to the Grandmaster, and this wild card could scupper everything; Loki's plans, a possible revolution, whatever Thor's plans were.

Thor, meanwhile, pressed him belly-down once more, and started making his way down Loki's body. A strong, firm, skilled hand made slippy with oil snaked under him and wrapped itself around Loki's half-hard cock. Loki sighed a contented sigh.

He gasped as two fingers penetrated him, gently but unexpectedly, and began to stroke inside him, seeking that spot that could make Loki stretch and groan. Thor laughed as his fingers pressed and stroked it, pulling whimpers from Loki, and withdrew his fingers again.

"Are we agreed on who is the master in bed, Loki?"

"Thor... _aaaaa_!"

A hard smack was delivered across his backside, driving a squeal from him. Thor withdrew for a moment and before Loki could turn to see what he was doing, something struck him across the backside making him squeal again. It felt like heavy leather, but feathered so it spread its impact across skin, painfully but relatively harmlessly. He couldn't help but cry out each time it landed. He squirmed and shrieked and braced himself for the next blow.

Ah, it was delicious. The sharp heat spread and began to fill him with want and need, and soon every blow he felt travelled straight to his cock. He became desperate for Thor to touch him again; fingers in his ass, a hand rubbing his balls, a cock in his mouth, anything.

"Aagh! Thor..." He called out to his love, the begging a clear note in his voice, not for mercy but for a rough hand. Thor thankfully took pity on him. Pressing fingers again into Loki's hole to groans from Loki at the stretch and burn, he sawed in and out forcefully, causing Loki to keen from the resulting painful drag and pleasurable pressure on that bundle of nerves.

"Thor," Loki gasped. Thor withdrew again, and Loki felt hot tears gather as Thor inflicted sharp, hot, unpredictable pain on his skin, just as he wanted. He was moving towards completion now, chasing his climax, panting with pain, desperate with pleasure. He felt the urge to cry rising at the need to have Thor inside him, mastering him properly with cock and force of will.

The flogging stopped as tears began down Loki's face, and he groaned in pleasure as he felt Thor bend over him and pull his hair so he could see. The mass of him covered Loki, possessively and protectively. Thor pulled Loki up by the waist and pressed the head of his cock to Loki's entrance.

Loki took a deep breath and exhaled a long moan as Thor pushed into him, quickly and brutally, not quite bottoming out. As he did so, Loki said through his tears, without thinking, "I love you."

He felt Thor grin as he withdrew his cock gently. "You love my thick, rough fingers." 

Thor pushed back in, more brutally than before, still not quite flush against Loki's ass.

Loki groaned again at the ache of the penetration, tears sliding down his face. "I love you," he panted, struggling to accept the ache.

Thor sounded even more amused as he withdrew. "You love my strong hands holding you down." 

He snapped his hips this time, the force of it near-pushing Loki flat on the bed.

Loki felt the tears come again and gasps rise in his chest as he willed the pain to slide towards pleasure again. "Yes. I love you," he sobbed as he felt Thor grasp his cock and run his thumb over its head.

Thor pumped Loki's cock, kissed his back, and said, "You love my fist around your cock."

Loki could only gasp and cry as he forced out, "Yes. I love you." He keened as Thor began to thrust into him in time with pumping his fist. It was almost too much.

"I know what you truly love, sorcerer. You love my cock inside you."

With that, Thor let go of Loki's cock, grabbed his hips, and pushed into him as deep as he could go, finally bottoming out. Loki yowled, tears running down his face. It was what he wanted but it was still uncomfortable and intrusive, for all that he revelled in it, being as it felt far more viscerally painful and pleasurable than their usual games. His skin was aflame and bruised, he was alight with arousal, Thor was pushing them both towards a peak that already felt out of his control.

"Trust me, then, sorcerer," Thor panted. "I will take care of you, always. I know what it is you love. I know how it is you love. I do not need to hear you say it. I know it, I know your heart, and your mind."

With that, his hips flush against Loki's, Thor began to drive towards his own climax, and Loki's need kept pace. The drag and burn of Thor's cock pounding in and out of his ass was at that moment keeping Loki present, the pain and the pleasure of it promising bruises that would be all the more painful in light of how sensitized every part of Loki had become at Thor's treatment.

Thor's merciless thrusts were driving Loki towards his peak, he could not escape or prevent the invasion of pleasure and pain and burning and ecstasy inside him. His hips were held painfully in Thor's unthinkingly bruising grip, his cock desperate for release.

Suddenly it came. Loki had ceased crying, his breath now coming in bursts, wide-eyed and almost unbelieving, as he tipped over into unthinking bliss. He felt Thor stutter in his thrusting, and spill inside him, warm and welcome. Thor collapsed on him, sated, silent.

Loki woke some time later that morning, Thor wrapped around him like muscular seaweed.

He had no idea what to make of the situation. He was not skilled in seidr of the psyche, and the only thing such an examination of Thor yielded for him was that Thor’s mind was riddled with it. It seemed that aspects of Thor were suppressed, which he already knew, but what he had just properly realised the previous night is that another aspect of Thor other than the warrior had survived. Thor’s noble side, the aspect that gave him a grander purpose, that which made the warrior a king.

And yet while it had been this noble Thor that had woken Loki from his enforced slumber, it had been the Beast who had taken Loki by the scruff of the neck and insisted that he overcome the Grandmaster’s influence. 

Neither was whole without the other. 

He could feel Thor’s slow, quiet breathing as he slept. Who was Thor when he was dreaming? Did he remember Asgard? 

He pressed against Thor for reassurance, and was calmed, despite knowing rationally that there was no reassurance to be had there, if it came to it. Thor murmured Loki’s name in his sleep and held him tighter.

The temptation to bolt and simply leave Sakaar was strong. The Beast would come with him willingly now that the Grandmaster’s attack on Loki had, for the moment at least, broken Thor’s loyalty to him. Of course, all the Grandmaster had to do was reinforce his influence once again. Enough times of this, back and forth, and eventually Thor’s mind would likely break, and lie in ruins. 

Loki wondered again what it would be like to just leave. He and the Beast moving on from Sakaar, wandering the cosmos together, the multiverse at their feet. It would be a good life, Loki knew, perhaps even the ideal one for him, Thor by his side, wanting only the pleasures and challenges that lay in front of him. He would willingly be Loki’s creature, completely and unreservedly, and they would be content. It would be no chore for Loki to guide Thor in this life, a fine life that they could build together with no obligations except to each other.

Loki imagined turning their backs on the burdens of Jotunheim and of Asgard. The relief, the freedom, the possibilities they could embrace, together. They would spend quieter times together too, in time. 

Thor would eventually grow lazy and fat and content, beloved of whatever flyspeck village they decided to settle in, or cosmopolitan city, or exotic station. When Loki got bored, he would chivvy Thor into seeking adventure and mischief and they would laugh and fight and face down challenges until such things waned in their attraction once again. Perhaps they could have a family, a home, the comforts of a traditional life. 

He sighed. Why was it that an enforced stay in a hellish trash planet is what made his mind turn to settling down? If Thor had known such a place would have this effect on Loki, he would have dropped Loki here himself some time ago.

Even while daydreaming this life, Loki could not fully embrace it. The same obstacles as before remained, Thor’s friends, family, his realm. Besides, Thor was not his plaything. For Loki to steal Thor from his true self and from his life would not be quite the same magnitude of a crime that the Grandmaster was committing, but it was only a question of degree. 

How would the Beast fare in Asgard? He would rule well enough, with advisers and counsellors -and Loki- to temper his instincts. He would have little interest in the responsibility of rule, but he could be a good king, for as long as Loki told him to be so. Loki amused himself for a moment with a childish, perverse fantasy of quite obviously seducing Thor away from his duties, leaving Odin outraged and at a loss as to the future of his realm.

And what of this aspect of Thor whom Loki had seen glimpses of before now, this noble Thor who last night sidelined Loki in favour of his new found friends in the gladiators pens? The Thor that believed he was the true Thor? He sighed again. He knew he was being unfair in characterising Thor so. This was the side of Thor that Loki selfishly resented. Thor the ruler, the future Allfather, who would put the greater good above his own desires, and Loki’s, each and every time. What if he were faced with the choice to live with this Thor, and this Thor only?

He would do it, and in his heart of hearts admitted that he would be grateful to come second in Thor’s life. He already did, but at least his Thor, the whole Thor, regretted that he had to make the choice. This noble Thor would love Loki well, but see no issue with Loki’s needs being secondary to Thor’s duties. He would expect Loki to accept such an arrangement with a smile. Thor’s heroic instincts, the purposeful leader in him, the servant to his subjects, would happily prioritise his head over his heart every time. His love for Loki would be deep and true but almost without passion. 

If _he_ were to rule Asgard, well, Asgard would prosper and be well, though their king would be distant. He would be an unfeeling king, not understanding his people’s passions and fears. The sense of community that weaved Asgardians together as one people, under their young king, might fray and fade. The Aes adored Thor as he was, their flawed, fiery king who led them as one of them, who embodied their drive and their spirit. What might they make of a pale, though noble, counterfeit?

Loki could still envision a life with this Thor, far from Asgard. If by some miracle he and Azin’s creatures defeated the Grandmaster, he and Loki could leave Sakaar in good conscience. Their travels would inevitably result in Thor getting caught up in righteous causes; he would forever be seeking a higher purpose. And without Asgard he would search forever, until in his noble arrogance he chose a cause so righteous and hopeless that even Thor, god of Thunder, could not find victory. He would fall, Loki by his side, never understanding that what he truly yearned for was to live and fight for Asgard and his people, not to die for strangers in a far-away system.

_Well. Those are glum thoughts. Best deal with the here and now._

Loki turned his head and looked at the sleeping blond giant by his side, all hair and muscle and cock. Who knew what would come of the Grandmaster’s machinations? Loki had plans for the madman, if only circumstances delivered them.

Loki had to admit that perhaps he and the Grandmaster were not cut from entirely different cloth, though. He too had manipulated Thor, shaped his thinking this morning so that he would be as much the arrogant warrior that Loki needed him to be right now. 

_I did it for his good, for both of us,_ he told himself.

In truth, he knew it might not make a difference. Thor was badly damaged by the ruthless tinkering and toying by a creature whom neither of them had a chance of defeating in a fair fight. At least Loki was fairly certain that the Grandmaster had lost any influence he had over Loki. And Loki did not fight fair.

At the contest that night, Loki watched the last of the lovelight for Thor fade from the Grandmaster's eyes as Thor finished off his opponents cleanly and quickly, with little showboating or grandstanding. The excited crowds grew muted quickly, disappointed, and the Grandmaster did not look pleased. What with Thor's resistance to playing by the Grandmaster's cruel rules only a few evenings before, the Grandmaster was ready to rid himself of his increasingly disappointing Champion.

Thor would no doubt find himself overmatched in the Arena tomorrow, crushed by a horde of opponents not even he could survive.

Loki grabbed Azin and hustled him away as the pretty, perfumed man wafted by, looking as immaculate and innocent as a kitten. Loki had hoped the shock of being hauled through walls by an invisible force would rattle the man, but he recovered himself quickly and squared his shoulders. _Brave_ , thought Loki, _but I knew that_.

Azin owed him, and they both knew it. Loki cast off his invisibility, folded his arms, and said, "I accept your apology, Azin. I'm sure you were as horrified as I at the death of an innocent merchant because your master mistook _me_ for _you_ , the mastermind of the movement against him.”

The painted, elegant man flashed him a quick, regretful smile, clearly frightened, but reining his fear in well. His voice did not tremble as he replied.

"One more victim on a list too long to count, but not too long for a reckoning. I sent some monetary help to his family, little though that heals such a loss."

Loki remained silent.

Azin sighed. "I am truly sorry, sorcerer. I did my best to protect you, but when the Grandmaster focused on you, I had to let you be sacrificed to his paranoia. It would not have changed anything for you had I stepped forward and let him know he was mistaken about you, and that I -and your warrior- was his true target. He would have ruined your mind anyway, as an afterthought. You know this."

Loki nodded grudgingly. "So what is the plan for which an innocent life was lost and my sanity destroyed? Exactly how do you intend to use my prince in your schemes?"

Azin looked determined. "I have assembled the coalition of rebels but it is the Champion who inspires them, fighters and workers alike. You have seen it. The anger and desperation of Sakaar is ready to explode. The Champion is proving to be the catalyst for an uprising. All that needs doing is for the obedience disks to be disabled. I can do that tonight."

Loki could feel something shifting in this place, this liminal place at the end of the multiverse. "Then the revolution starts tonight. I have no more patience with the Grandmaster, and little enough for this place. If you wish for Thor to lead your rebels, you will follow my lead in this."

Azin looked at him, appraising him, as astute and pragmatic a leader as Loki had ever seen. "Very well, sorcerer. I will wait for your sign."

Loki nodded. "It will be important to keep Thor away from the Grandmaster."

"And what of you, sorcerer? You are immune to the Grandmaster's influence now?"

Loki smiled, a wolf's smile. "Rest assured, I serve a greater master than he. And I have been promised that the storm is coming. Stand ready, Azin."


	15. Near Strike

Loki had only a brief time to pick out the weaknesses of this place and its ruler, but he intended to exploit everything he had found. He would preferred to have known more before making his move, but time had caught him up.

He did know that he would not allow the Grandmaster to complete his destruction of Thor by simply throwing him on the pile like a used rag. 

He knew that if Thor was going to die by the Grandmaster's hand, it would be while fighting for his freedom and with Loki by his side.

He knew that he was going to finish what Thor started, and bring this cursed Arena down around the Grandmaster’s ears.

Perhaps most importantly, Loki knew the codes to the Grandmaster’s fleet, along with the most direct route to the hangar. 

As soon as opportune, he and Thor were starting their journey home. 

  
  


Azin disappeared down the corridor to free Thor's army of gladiators. Loki hoped that those loyal to Thor outmatched or at least outnumbered those loyal to the Grandmaster. There were always those who believed that their safety and prosperity lay in allying themselves with their oppressor. Fools and cowards. Perhaps Thor's loyalists could keep them engaged long enough so that they did not interfere with the real fight, that between Loki and the Grandmaster.

He walked towards the rooms where the Grandmaster's post-contest parties tended to be held, gambling that the Grandmaster had written him off as a threat now that he was supposedly under Thor's thumb, like Thor was under the Grandmaster's. The madman was probably paranoid -or wise- enough to be wary of them anyway. Loki was not counting on the element of surprise, but it would be helpful. Maybe even essential. There was no way that the Grandmaster could suspect that Loki had reclaimed his sense of self, surely.

 _Reclaimed? I have been_ **_given back_ ** _my sense of self by the kind hand of my love. Were he not equally devoted to me, I would still be his mindless thrall. He will not let me down in this fight._

_Nevertheless, best to keep him away from it._

Loki almost immediately knew he had failed in this when he heard and felt the rumble of thunder pass over the building, the low sound making him feel as though his bones were grinding at each other. Not even he could control the storm, after all. It was most certainly Thor; Sakaar did not have weather in the conventional sense, the skies too corrupted by the endless series of ruptures in space and time dotted throughout. But the storm had arrived, all the same.

Loki started to run. The truth was, as powerful as Thor was, the Grandmaster was more so. Even a god was no great threat to a being of the Grandmaster’s age and ambition. Then again, Thor in anger was a formidable and terrible force. And the Grandmaster could blame none but himself for bringing down the rage of the storm upon himself.

He was not entirely surprised when the whole building shifted and shook. He picked up his pace, swimming against a sudden tide of screaming people. Thunder rumbled again, sharper this time, above the sound of twisting masonry, glass and metal. Loki teleported as far as he dared, and found himself in the epicentre of chaos.

And what chaos it was. Well before he approached the viewing balcony, he could see that the roof of the building had been completely blown off, by a lightning blast if Loki was any judge. Thor was drawing on vast quantities of his powers, more than Loki had seen before, even when Thor used Mjolnir to focus his powers. Loki could see the sky churning and twisting above him, a bizarre sight against the backdrop of wormholes. Loki wondered what the effects might be on those restive skies of a god of thunder drawing on his power wildly and without care for the consequences. 

There was a strange, high pitched whine on the very edge of his hearing amidst the cacophony of storm and the moans of the dying; perhaps from the slow collapse of the building. All around him were the scattered forms of burnt, dying and dead Guards, including members of the Grandmaster's personal bodyguard. The Grandmaster had to be near. 

Not fully manifesting yet, Loki continued to walk between spaces at speed, mindful of using his seidr sparingly for the battle ahead. Nowhere could he find Thor, or the Grandmaster, though he scented the ozone of Thor's lightning strikes and unpleasant traces of what he assumed was the Grandmaster's magics.

It only took minutes for him to scout the area, walking between places as he was, but he found nothing. Thunder still rumbled, and through cracks and holes in the building, Loki could see lightning building like a fire tornado in the direction of the pit, so he moved to the viewing balcony overlooking it, still invisible and intangible and safe from prying eyes.

_There. I should have known._

Beneath Loki, in the fighting pit, under the screaming sky, blood and death heaved and boiled where Thor stood. He drew down the storm and hurled it at the throng surrounding him. Loki could hear the prayers and curses of the Grandmaster's guards as they were mown down by the bludgeoning and burning of Thor's seidr, wave after wave. Loki caught sight of Thor's expression in the midst of it all; bright and terrible, joyous in destruction, focused on the annihilation of his enemies; death itself embodied in the form of a radiant, mighty Aes. The warrior unleashed.

Loki shuddered, reminded again of the Thor that had haunted his nightmares during the war between their realms. Loki had watched Thor carefully then from afar, while appearing to dance and skip around the edges of the invading Asgardian army, thwarting or slowing its advance. He had wrought havoc, taunted Thor, and eventually, inevitably, had fallen victim to him.

Even that Thor had never been as bloodthirsty as the creature who stood below in the fighting pit appeared to be, but in Loki's most anxious dreams, Thor had appeared thus; mighty, ruthless, without pity or remorse or fear. 

A hand appeared in front of him from seemingly nowhere -he had allowed himself to be distracted!- and he gasped in disbelief as it closed around his intangible throat. How had the Grandmaster seen him, _touched_ him? He was wrenched from between places and forcibly manifested on the balcony, dangling by the throat from the Grandmaster's hand.

He smiled at Loki. "Aw, you miss your master. Cute."

Loki could only croak out a painful response as he mustered his seidr "You...talk too much." He struck as hard as he could, at key points of the Grandmaster's psychic defenses.

The Grandmaster barely flinched, as Loki had expected. The taller man looked shaken, though not from what Loki had thrown at him. Thor must have struck a mighty blow earlier for the Grandmaster to look so ragged.

Nevertheless, the Grandmaster yet had the wherewithal to walk to the edge of the balcony while still choking Loki.

"Here, sorcerer, let me reunite you two!"

With that, he let go. Loki found himself plummeting towards the ground. He shifted forms mid-air, flying now as a bird of prey. He realised what a foolish choice this was as he was immediately buffeted by the stormwinds, lightning flashing above him and by him as he scrabbled for purchase on the tormented, raging aircurrents. 

There was no sign of the Grandmaster on the balcony above him from the glimpses he could see as he struggled for control, but that did not mean much. He screamed a desperate bird scream, praying to catch Thor's attention before he lost control entirely and was slammed against the Arena stands or the ground.

Thor turned to survey the destruction he had wrought and caught sight of Loki. Thor always seemed to recognise him no matter what form Loki took. Thor grinned at him hugely and stretched out an arm. "Loki! Down here! We'll finish them together!"

A favourable wind caught Loki and swept him right over to Thor, where he alighted on the outstretched arm. It looked like Thor had completely broken the attack on himself as the Sakaarian guards began to run, leaving the dead and dying where they had fallen. Loki was not averse to attacking an enemy from behind, but it appeared to be unnecessary at this moment. Thor seemed of a very different mind and readied himself to attack again. Loki changed back to his Aes form. "What...happened here, Thor? Where is the Grandmaster?"

Thor's battlelust was replaced by confusion for a moment. "The Grandmaster? He has left, I think. I sought to confront my enemies, and struck at them in the building above. He reminded me that he and I are friends, and made me realise that I intended to confront my _enemies_ , all of them, so I attacked his vassals. He ordered them to stay here to facilitate me, was that not kind? I should be rid of all of them soon."

Loki stared at him, utterly shocked. The Grandmaster had managed to deflect Thor's anger onto his own lackeys, allowing Thor to cut through them like chaff. Ruthlessness did not come into it.

Loki shook his head in an attempt to think clearly. His first priority was Thor. Thor did not seem to be sure if the Grandmaster was friend or enemy. And regrettably, for the moment, Thor was safest here, fighting these poor bastards at the behest of the Grandmaster. It was what he knew best after his unending evenings in this pit, slaughtering countless opponents for the pleasure of the twisted creature that had tangled Thor's mind.

Suddenly, Loki was furious. How dare the Grandmaster! How dare this degenerate being, this base butcher, this sadistic scut whose pleasure lies in the subjugation and suffering of unwilling others, touch with his foul fingers the mind of Loki's prince, Loki's king?

How dare he carelessly drag Thor down to his level of depravity!

Loki would not walk away from this without showing the Grandmaster the cost of putting his hands on what belonged to Loki by right of conquest, by right of love, and by right of submission.

He had sown the seeds of his revenge, and hoped they would come to fruit sooner rather than later, but he could wait.

He had more immediate ways to hurt the Grandmaster. Loki's seidr was not a bottomless well, nor was his ability to wield it, so he had to be careful in his use of it in battle. The action he was about to take would win them nothing, give them no advantage, destroy no enemy. But it felt right, and it felt important and he knew he would dream of it in sour regret if he did not do this here and now.

He focussed, drawing strength and comfort from far-away Yggdrasil, and gathered chaos within him. He flexed it, feeling it undulate within him, and allowed it to burst forth. He directed it towards the empty stands; open to the sky.

Stone and metal began to twist and shriek. Loki flicked his seidr, and the stands began a slow landslide towards where they stood. Loki carefully shaped his spelling so that the exits from the structures underneath the stands remained clear, for fear that the gladiators who lived within would be trapped. Thor made a noise as the rubble sped towards them from all sides in a cloud of dust. Loki created a protective sphere and watched grimly as the remains of the Arena piled up around it.

It felt like an earthquake. Loki hoped that wherever the Grandmaster was right now, he was able to witness the destruction of his beloved Arena.

“Thor, we are leaving. Do not argue with me!”

Thor eyed him askance as the storm continued to build above them. Loki glanced up, trying to determine the source of that whining noise. He wondered if anyone else could hear it, but had no time to spend on finding out.

Azin appeared at the entrance to the gladiators' quarters, looking terrified and bloodied but still possessed of himself. He was backed by a group of gladiators that Loki recognised as being part of Thor's group of friends. They were looking at the destruction of the Arena in wonder, clambering on top of the rubble to watch the dust settle.

Thor growled, and Loki saw, with shock, that he was not calming, and he looked likely to attack Azin and his companions. He grabbed Thor by the shoulders and shook him. "Thor! Look at me! Azin is an ally! A friend!"

Thor was still growling like an angry dog. Loki realised that he was a danger to everyone bar him and the Grandmaster right now.

"Azin! Stay where you are! I will come to you!"

Loki turned to Thor. "Stay here. Do you understand me? Thor! I will be back in a moment. _Stay here_." The storm rumbled above him, almost drowning him out.

Loki ran over to Azin, who looked scared but in control.

Azin spoke first. "We have cleared the gladiators' space of Grandmaster loyalists. They are dead, or imprisoned in the pens. How fares Thor?"

"Thor...is quite out of his mind. Are you ready to take the rest of Sakaar? I had intended to target the Grandmaster now, alone, but I cannot leave Thor, and I cannot risk him meeting the Grandmaster for fear he will be turned against us all. We are leaving.”

Azin looked at him regretfully. "You are sure, Loki? You and Thor are among the most powerful beings here.”

Loki spoke a half-truth. He was not sorry to be leaving at all. “I regret leaving your revolution half-done, but I will not endanger my prince any further. Besides, the Grandmaster looks weakened enough that a combined attack would overwhelm him."

Azin looked worried. “Without you, we are a ragtag army of miscreants and the lost, banded together only by our fight against the tyrant of Sakaar."

Loki could not afford to soften his heart in this. "That will have to be enough, Azin. You can finish this today, I am sure of it. I can only wish you luck."

Azin nodded, chagrined, but unable to argue. "You have our thanks, sorcerer. And Thor too."

They clapped each other on the back, and Loki made his way back to Thor, picking his way through and over the remains of the stands. Thor was growing increasingly agitated, lightning coalescing around him, ready to attack the Sakaarian rebels at the slightest provocation.

"I will defeat all of my enemies today, Loki! All of them!"

"Let us find them, then, Thor. Come with me."

Loki near-dragged a reluctant Thor out of the pit, carefully avoiding any clusters of people who milled about looking lost, shocked, and determined or all three. Sakaar would be counting the cost of this revolution for some time, win or lose. Loki, with a snarling Thor in tow, made for the hangar where the Grandmaster kept his ships and spacecraft. He had expected the hangar to be empty, but as he and Thor walked inside, a tall gaudily dressed figure was already there, tapping in the codes to one of the fleetest of the ships.

Loki and the Grandmaster stared at each other for a heartbeat. Then each man struck hard at the other.

Loki threw a bolt of energy with his right hand to distract while massing a psychic blow with his left. Neither was as powerful as his earlier attacks but they did not need to be, the hooks had been planted. His first strike flew true, though his secondary and more important one was deflected. The Grandmaster rocked back at the impact of the first, even as his own first attack on Loki was dissipated by some quick spelling on Loki's part. Loki's seidr was becoming more difficult to draw upon, but his spells were full of anger and horror and fear, and his target was also far from his full strength.

The Grandmaster collapsed in an untidy sprawl among his boxes, still managing to look louche, and groaned, "Oh, _Loki,_ " as if he were some naughty kitten. Loki focussed another psychic blast which might just have ended the battle if his target was as exhausted as he appeared, but just before he loosed, Loki felt both his hands seized in a strong grip and he was wrenched off balance.

Thor. Thor had grabbed his hands to forestall his next attack. "Let me go, you dolt! He will kill both of us, or worse!"

"Stop it, Loki. The Grandmaster told me to fight my enemies. I will not allow you to fight him as if he were one."

The Grandmaster laughed and rose to his feet, brushing off his tawdry clothing, and Loki felt murderous rage descend on him again. He vowed to himself that he would end the Grandmaster today or another day if he had to wait a millennium. He tried to sweep Thor's legs, but as Thor stumbled, Loki felt the Grandmaster's seidr round on him.

 _Bad move._ Loki knew from his first such confrontation with this madman that he could match him in neither power nor finesse, but he knew enough to set traps behind bulwarks that would not stand up to a sustained attack by the Grandmaster. The invasive seidr ploughed through his defenses as easily as he expected...and hit several of the traps at once, including a particularly nasty one.

The Grandmaster reeled back, his attack turned back upon himself. He truly looked at the end of his means now, barely hanging on. His age and nature was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing moment, ugliness seeping through his mask of affableness and friendly sleaze.

Thor, still holding Loki by the wrists, shouted, "Loki, what are you doing? The Grandmaster is not my enemy!"

The Grandmaster waved his trembling hand in an attempt at languor. "Now, now! We're all friends here! Except Loki attacked me. Thor, what do you do when someone isn't nice to me?"

Loki's heart pounded as adrenaline roared through him. Thor, still holding Loki's wrists, stared at the Grandmaster, puzzled. "Loki is mine to protect, as much as you are."

Thor paused.

" _More so_ than you are."

Loki desperately tried to salvage their escape. "Thor, we are leaving. Let us choose another craft and _go_."

The Grandmaster smiled a cruel smile. If he attacked Thor, twisted his mind against Loki...Loki started to mutter a spell to protect Thor from the worst of such an attack.

"My Champion, my lovely champion, we were such good friends! And your Loki is so! much! more! _interesting_ than I had thought! He is a shapeshifter, why did no-one tell me? No-one told me that he was a shapeshifter! That's delightful! That's fascinating! I am, eh, I'm curious about his core shape, you know. I can see this isn't his original form, no more than the bird he wore there, earlier. So let's see what lies beneath the skin of your dear friend, shall we?"

Too late, Loki realised he was preparing for the wrong kind of assault. The Grandmaster reached into him in a way that Loki could not have guessed was possible and peeled away at his form. Loki went rigid with shock, though he did not feel pain or harm. The feeling of the Grandmaster touching Loki’s shape was horribly violating and so unexpected that Loki could not quite comprehend what as happening. Thor was staring at him as his Jotunn form coalesced around him. Loki watched with terror as the storm gathered again in the eyes of his love.

Thor flung him away, releasing his wrists in an explosive movement, and reflexively reached for the hammer that wasn't there, a bestial snarl marring his face.

_Fuck._

Loki backed up, holding up his hands placatingly.

“Thor. Calm yourself. It is Loki. You can see it is me. You recognise me no matter my form, do you not? Look at me, now.” 

Uncertainty scudded across Thor’s face, but anger and disgust remained foremost. He snarled and prepared to attack. A feeling of unreality descended on Loki.

Loki really was facing the Thor of his nightmares now; bestial, murderous, deeply loathing of the Jotunn that had attacked his home and threatened his realm. He could not see Loki, the essence of his love, in this Jotunn form, no doubt because of his intrinsic and deep-rooted hatred of a race he had learned from his cradle to despise. His hatred was blinding him. The Grandmaster's last gasp attempt to drive a wedge between them could not have worked better.

Vaguely aware of the Grandmaster collapsing against the escape craft as Thor bore down on Loki, Loki did the only thing that made sense.

Loki ran.

  
  
  



	16. Lightning Strikes Twice

Loki ran. He was faster than Thor, and more deft, but though he had quickly pulled ahead, he could still almost feel the Thunderer bearing down on him, could sense the heat of his body. Thor was following nearly silently behind him, a hunter running down his prey.

Loki headed towards the exit of the remaining building, teleporting down as many storeys as he thought safe, leading them towards the pit. He could not let Thor catch him in close quarters, or he would be forced to take drastic measures too quickly. Could he really be hearing Thor’s angry roar through two floors of stone and metal? Granted, the building was not as solid as it had been in the aftermath of Thor’s earlier lightning strike.

Loki rendered himself invisible but carried on as he was, not looking back. Thor could not be directly behind him, anyway, it was impossible. He did not dare look. He kept running.

Loki had planned for this, to an extent. He had considered how to fight the Beast if it was turned loose on him by the Grandmaster, had thought through all of the best and worst case scenarios...so he had thought.

He had not factored in Thor’s hatred for Frost Giants.

Thor’s visceral reaction to Loki’s Jotunn form was not a complete surprise, if only had Loki really thought about it. Loki had allowed himself to almost forget Thor’s once bone-deep hatred of his kind, and perhaps Thor had too.

Even when Loki had been Thor's prisoner, at least after Thor had Loki safely subjugated, he had never shown such loathing towards Loki for what he was. In the depths of their public and private war on Jotunheim, though Loki knew Thor to consider his people as a blight on the Nine realms, he had never made Loki pay the cost of his race.

He had knelt to Loki when Loki walked as a prince of Jotunheim in Utgard. He had approached Loki with tenderness and curiosity when Loki fell practically into his lap in Alfheim, naked of seidr and blue of skin. He had agreed to allow the Frost Giants to restore their kingdom, for love of Loki, but also, Loki had hoped, in regret for his unquestioning bigotry and the horrors he had committed and allowed to be committed as a result of it.

Perhaps foolishly, Loki had disregarded Thor’s prejudices as Thor had come to recognise his own failings in this. Perhaps naively, Loki had thought it didn’t matter, for Thor would never act on those prejudices, not again, especially after seeing how Laufey had manipulated him through them.

The Grandmaster had destroyed so much of who Thor had grown to be. Loki would find the vile thing, eventually, and make him suffer.

If Loki survived this night, himself.

He could hear Thor roaring some way behind him. He reminded himself that he was faster than Thor, that he had leaped ahead using his seidr, and so he refused to look back.

His neck itched at the feel of phantom fingers.

Finally Loki found open ground, surrounded by the rubble of the Arena, where the fighting pit still remained. There was no one else around.

He took a deep breath. There were only moments before Thor found him, and he had to use the time to his advantage.

Loki centred himself and tried to draw on his seidr to do again what the Grandmaster had undone. Shapechanging was an enormously power-consuming practice. Even though his Asgardian form of all forms was the easiest, most customary one for him to take, it would be a drain. If it was too much, he would almost certainly injure himself grievously, even destroy his ability to cast, and then Thor would be helpless and alone against the fetid monstrosity that controlled him.

He embraced his Aesir form and prayed that Thor would be mollified. That Thor would be calmed by seeing Loki in his familiar form, and they would walk away from this together.

As soon as he had, Thor burst through the damaged doors onto the floor of the pit. Loki made fists of his hands to remind himself to hold firm.

Thor tore across the pit without hesitation. Loki had hoped for a moment of pause so he could speak to Thor. He held his arms open in what he hoped to be a placating manner, and called to him.

“ _Thor!_ We are far from home, and it is the two of us alone, please wait a moment before you act!”

"JOTUNN MONSTER! WITCH! YOU DARE STEAL THE FACE OF MY LOVE!"

Loki froze for a moment. Was Thor really this far gone? Before he could think any further, Thor was upon him and it was only thanks to his wild swings and Loki’s sure feet that Loki escaped a flurry of crushing blows.

He conjured a rake of Lokis to surround and protect him from Thor’s line of view, and out of bullheadedness, decided to give some an Aes appearance and some a Jotunn one. He was growing angry, and not a little hurt, at Thor’s clear hatred and contempt for his people.

_Keep focus, you fool. You cannot allow your delicate sensibilities to distract you from this fight._

Thor roared wordlessly, and cut a swathe through the illusions. The sight of it was unsettling, but Loki aimed a blast of kinetic seidr at Thor and dissipated the remaining images of himself.

Gratifyingly, the strike had knocked Thor on his ass. Winded, he was struggling for breath as he scrambled back to his feet. Loki tried once more to reach him.

“Thor. It is me, can you not see? Can you not hear my voice? Can you not _sense_ that it is me?”

Thor launched himself at Loki again, and Loki instinctively stepped left and countered with a punch to the head, knocking Thor aside. His hand went numb with the force of the impact and he could only hope he had not broken it. There was a reason sorcerers preferred to stay away from one-to-one fights and scrums.

Thor was not fazed by the punch, only looking more enraged and formidable, and he growled at Loki, a low animal noise. Loki took a step back again holding his hands up, palms out, in a calming gesture. “Please. Please, Thor. Hear me. It is me. It is _Loki_.”

Thor threw himself at Loki again, so Loki ran, again.

He climbed up the rubble, throwing slices of telekinetic seidr back at Thor, conserving his more powerful seidr til he needed it. Thor was too wild now to draw on the elements but it was only a matter of time before he did so it again out of anger or instinct. Loki heard him yowl and shout as the blades sliced his skin, and he could _feel_ Thor redoubling his efforts to catch Loki.

He could hear Thor throwing what he clearly thought were insults at him. “Trickster! Cheat! Jotunn sorcerer!”

Loki laughed. “Yes, Thor, that’s how you should know that it’s _me_.”

Enough. Eventually Thor would run him to ground. Loki had to take a stand again and try to pound some sense into him, since sweet reason was not working.

Loki turned and blasted the wreckage of the Arena below him, scrambling backwards up the uneven slope to avoid being caught in the avalanche of rocks that resulted. Thor found the rubble slipping beneath him and disappeared suddenly in a cloud of dust and debris and out of Loki’s sight, though he would swear that he could still hear Thor growling.

Loki vanished, simultaneously creating an illusion of himself stalking down the slope towards where he last saw Thor. He heard rather than saw a slab of stone and twisted metal come flying at the illusion and rolled his fake self out of the way. Turning it towards where he thought Thor must be, he raised its hands as if to cast, and _there,_ some measure away from where he thought Thor was, the Beast came flying out of the rubble bearing a twisted metal bar with which he attempted to impale the illusion of Loki.

Loki flung a couple of telekinetic blasts at the Beast, who grunted and looked about wildly, trying to triangulate exactly where Loki was. Lightning blasts rained down, Loki deflecting the ground strikes around himself as discreetly as he could and shielding himself from the shockwaves of sound. He walked invisibly towards Thor, flicking seidr at Thor to push him backwards and downwards, blinding him with flashing lights just enough to confuse him. All the while, Loki was hyper-aware that their relative positions made him all the more vulnerable to a lightning strike should Thor determine where he walked.

He felt his chest tighten as he considered his options.

One, abandon Thor. He could not. He _would_ not.

Two, attempt to knock out this raging bull. This would involve getting as close as was safely possible to Thor, as the closer he was, the less risk Loki ran of accidentally killing him, no matter how careful and calculated the strike.

Three, desperately attempt to undo what the Grandmaster had done. Again, Loki would need to get close to Thor, and even in ideal circumstances, the results could be worse than killing him. Loki knew himself to be cackhanded at what was an incredibly delicate art, and he could finish the destruction of Thor’s mind if he attempted this.

Four…

If it came down to the stark choice of Loki’s survival versus Thor’s, what would Loki choose? He was backing himself into a corner. By refusing to abandon Thor, and if unable to restore his mind, Loki would be forced to make a final choice when Thor inevitably caught hold of him.

Loki needed to get as close as possible to carefully and precisely knock Thor out, haul him onto a ship and get them away from Sakaar together. He just needed for Thor to keep reacting to Loki's prodding so he didn't notice Loki sneak up and render him safely unconscious.

Unfortunately Thor had begun to figure out Loki’s manipulations and distractions, and suddenly was gone again from Loki’s sight, dashing behind a pile of rubble. Loki crouched down too, fearing he had been spotted despite his invisibility spell.

Sure enough, a lightning strike slammed down a few feet from where he was, and Loki managed to again to deflect the small amount of current that grounded itself around him. A thunder clap almost immediately rolled over him, and he found himself breathless with fear for a moment.

His ears were ringing, a high-pitched buzz that seemed to be getting louder. Rising slowly, he began to move as quietly as he could to where the lightning had just struck, reasoning that Thor would ignore that patch now that his attack had proven unfruitful.

Something collided with him out of nowhere, and he pitched sideways, the pure physical power of Thor catching him by surprise. Loki went from anger and fear to terror in the brief second it took for Thor to find his throat with strong fingers.

“I lay a trap and you fall right in, sorcerer,” growled Thor, kneeling above him.

Loki did not allow the terror to rule him, though it was a close run thing. Dropping his invisibility spell, he lay beneath Thor and looked him in the eye, managing to grit out, “You caught me, Thor. It is me, your sorcerer, your _Loki_. What must I do to get through your thick skull?”

“Do not think I will not strangle you though you wear his face, Jotunn,” snarled Thor, his teeth clenched, his face red, his eyes quite mad.

Loki stabbed Thor, with gusto, in the side and twisted the knife painfully. Thor roared but did not loosen his grip of Loki’s throat. Loki tried to control the rising panic as he was choked, as his lungs began to burn. Praying to the Norns for their favour, he placed his hand on Thor’s face and lashed as large a pulse of energy as he dared into Thor, hoping against hope that he had the measure of his strength and he had not killed his love.

Thor reeled from him, releasing his throat, and Loki pulled in a lungful of air, two, as he tried to check on Thor. A wave of shock and fear broke over him as he realised he had erred on the side of caution and that Thor had blacked out only for a moment. Along with that terrifying realisation came the sense that he had hurt himself; he had strained his ability to cast as surely as he would have his muscles and tendons if he had tried to lift a boulder alone.

He made to run, but Thor caught him by the ankle, and Loki never even managed to get himself fully upright. Thor’s grip was so tight that Loki found himself paradoxically wishing he could throw himself into Thor’s strong arms for comfort and reassurance that this would all end well.

The control he had on his panic was diminishing; he could feel his whole body alight with adrenaline, could smell his own fear, could almost see his heart pounding in his chest, the blood zipping through his arteries and veins so fast he could hear it, could taste blood as he bit his lip to stop himself screaming.

He threw all of the little he had left into his next blast, trying to fell a god.

Thor roared, but had no difficulty pinning Loki down, knees bracketing his thighs, wrists held fast on the ground on either side of his head, caged by Thor’s strong arms. How many times had he been in this position and had felt only cherished and safe and the thrill of handing over his power to his love?

Thor stared down at him, measuring him in some way, finding him wanting.

“You are the Grandmaster’s creature,” he said slowly. “An enemy.”

Loki could only shake his head. _I am yours. I cannot make you believe a truth you cannot see._

“A shapeshifter. A liar. A trickster.”

Loki nodded, exhausted.

“Show yourself, trickster.”

Loki responded the only way he could at that moment. “You see me as I am, Thor,” he whispered, throat ragged.

“YOUR TRUE FORM, TRICKSTER!”

Loki frowned. He could see confusion as well as anger in Thor’s eyes. Perhaps there was hope yet, but he was not sure how best to shape Thor’s confusion. Something within him still resisted hurting Loki, at least while he wore the Aes skin that Thor was most familiar with. Surely Loki could still reach him? What could he say or do to open Thor’s eyes?

He decided on the truth. It was the most useful tool sometimes.

“We have had this conversation before, Thunderer. I told you then as I tell you now. I no longer have a true form. If you kill me now, you kill me as I am. Why should I make it easy for you?”

Thor growled, confused.

Loki was beginning to calm, beginning to accept whatever fate the Norns had for him this day. “Thor, listen to me. No matter what happens today, no matter what you choose to do, please remember what I say now. You must make your way back to Asgard. You must return _home_.”

Thor looked dazed, and Loki thought he saw a flash of recognition in his eyes.

On the very periphery of his vision, Loki could see a craft emerge from the direction of the hangar. He did not have to see it closely to know who was aboard. His brief hope that it would fly on by and make its escape and allow him a last ditch attempt to reason with Thor was almost immediately dashed.

The pilot of the craft, who appeared to be the Grandmaster’s head bodyguard, held it in a hover over the pit and behind Thor, who seemed utterly unaware of it, his full focus on Loki. The entryway of the craft opened to reveal the Grandmaster, looking near as old as he probably was, with a grotesque imitation of a smile on his face. He moved his hand in a gesture with which Loki was intimately and repulsively familiar. Loki’s heart shrank in his chest as he saw the light of the Grandmaster’s influence, his hideous intelligence, bloom behind Thor’s eyes.

The Grandmaster waved at Loki as the craft banked and made to leave. Loki lay helpless beneath Thor, all hope lost.

The smile now on Thor’s face was a cruel one.

“Jotunn. You will show me your true skin, and you will do so now. If you do not, if you remain in Aes skin, I promise you, I will indeed return to Asgard. The first action I will take there will be to rally the realm. We will rally against our greatest enemy, your accursed brethren, and we will destroy you. All of you. Now, make your choice. I offer you death at my hands either way, but the fate of your realm is in yours. So, choose. The death of your realm if you remain as you are. Or, give me what I want, and I may have mercy on your people.”

Loki’s mind blanked for a moment at the threat, and when he focussed, he still could not quite believe what Thor had said.

Thor was looking down at him, grinning. Loki felt a dull fury flash through him.

“Thor. Look at my wrist. Where my pulse beats. You see that? That is your mark on me. Do you remember giving it to me?”

Thor frowned, and moved his hand so he could properly see of what Loki spoke. He pushed aside the now blurred silver bracelet that he had gifted Loki once, and was stroking his thumb across the still painfully reddened brand of Mjolnir on the skin underneath that his lightning strike had burnt into Loki’s pale Aes skin there, when suddenly Loki wrenched his wrist from Thor’s hold and struck him across the face with all of his remaining physical strength.

Thor roared and had Loki pinned down again in but a moment. Loki laughed painfully. He had not expected much more, in fact he had not even expected to manage that much, but it would do. He hoped that Thor would recover his mind, eventually, and he even hoped for the sake of what they had once shared together that Thor would forget the detail of what he had said and done to Loki that day. Still, a part of him hoped too that Thor would remember that final slap, that final act of defiance.

Suddenly fearful that Thor would kill him in a rage before he had a chance to shift into his Jotunn form as demanded in exchange for the safety of his realm, Loki began to summon his seidr as quickly as he could. He had no great faith that conceding to Thor’s demand would make a difference if the Asgardian king gone mad truly wished to destroy Jotunheim.

But he was unwilling to refuse in case Thor would regard it as a provocation to carry out his threat. He knew how dogged and determined Thor could be, and if Thor could not be saved from himself, there was no telling what he would do if he did find his way home.

Loki’s shape began to transmute and he tried to suppress a groan as his seidr rippled through him painfully, like a muscle tearing or a tendon pulling off the bone. Pinwheels bloomed across his vision; he tasted something burnt, metallic; and the sound of blood pulsed in his ears, making that shrill, high noise again.

He saw Thor glance upwards for a moment, and then down at him as his Jotunn form coalesced underneath Thor’s bulk. Loki smiled sardonically at him, red eyes meeting blue.

“Well, now, my prince, my king. You see me as you commanded me to be. So. Do as you will.”

Thor stared at him, too many expressions flitting across his face for Loki to read, exhausted as he was, defeated as he was. Should he have killed Thor when the opportunity arose? He looked at the face of his love, even distorted by madman’s grip on his mind, and knew he never would have been able to put true killing force into any blow he struck at Thor.

He made a cursory attempt to struggle free, but Thor held him fast, still staring at him strangely.

“What are you waiting for, Thor? Get it over with!”

Loki did not think he would stay conscious much longer; perhaps that was a blessing. He felt an injury deep inside him from summoning too carelessly his seidr, and the high pitched noise in his ear was becoming more pronounced. He looked up at the sky, hating it, the storm that had crashed and swirled now abating somewhat, its beauty marred by the pockmarks of the warps in time and space. He could see the biggest one clearly even through the rage of Thor’s storm, the one he had thought might be a way home for them together.

He looked at Thor again, too tired to spit any more defiance. He realised Thor had released his wrists and was looking down at him with something resembling horror. Was Thor really that repelled by his Jotunn skin? He had done a good job of hiding it, before.

“...Loki?”

Loki saw Thor’s mouth shaping his name but could not hear it over the clap of thunder and shockwave that expanded from the lightning strike that bore down on them. Even that did not drown out the sharp, ethereal sound that Loki now realised had been at the edge of his hearing all day.

_Mjolnir._

He saw Thor silhouetted in the lightning strike, extending his arm to catch Mjolnir and hold her aloft in joy at being reunited with her. Loki’s scream of agony too was lost in the cacophony as the lightning ran through him. He blacked out for a moment.

When he came to, disoriented, deafened and in pain, and he was not sure where he was. He was in Jotunheim, was he not, defending her from the Asgardian invasion? The Thunderer, newly king of Asgard, stood over him, framed in lightning and by a furious sky. Loki was lying on his back about to be enslaved and debased by him. Then what...he must have been hallucinating that he was elsewhere, a vivid hallucination created by his brain as it spasmed with the shock and intensity of the Odinson's onslaught.

Whatever the case, Thor moved as if to place Mjolnir on his chest. Loki had not liked it the first time, nor did he expect to now. This had happened before? He felt confused, and enormously sad. Darkness was pulling him down again, but with the last of his strength he harvested enough saliva to spit on Mjolnir before she was settled on his chest. He thought he heard someone call his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final scene might be very confusing for anyone who hasn't read chapter 2 of "I Serve", the second part of this series and the main story. It might also be confusing for anyone who HAS read it! To clarify, Loki is completely confused and is having a deja vu/flashback to when Thor captured him in battle.


	17. Home to Asgard

Loki woke briefly to find himself laying on a cot, the sound of a subspace engine thrumming all around him. Panic rose as he tried to figure out where he was, other than in a spacecraft. For a moment, he could not remember even _when_ he was. 

“You’ll be alright, lad,” a familiar male voice said. “We are on our way home.”

Loki could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Volstagg was looking at him with concern, and he thought he could make out the shape of Sif just beyond him.

“Calm yourself, Loki,” said Sif’s voice. “We should be approaching the Nine Realms within the hour. You will both be seen to then, and neither of you are in immediate danger.”

Loki nodded. In a rusty voice, he managed to say, “Keep Thor away from me, please. Please.”

Sif and Volstagg looked at one another. Volstagg said, “He should continue to sleep until we arrive home. He is very concerned for you, I know that.”

Loki scoffed hoarsely. Darkness bloomed again.

  
  
  


Loki half-woke from something resembling sleep a little later, sound washing in and out of his ears like the ocean. He realised that he could make out Thor’s voice, if not what he was saying. Sif was responding to him. 

“We followed Mjolnir," Sif was saying. "She landed on Asgard with us, but there was no sign of you and Loki. We became somewhat occupied with the invaders who tried to interfere with the Bifrost and had knocked you and Loki off-course. After defeating them, we realised Mjolnir too had gone, but we were able to follow her energy signature through an obscured wormhole about a day’s journey from Asgard. On the other side, we found ourselves in the strangest skies I have ever seen.”

“Sakaar,” breathed Thor. He sounded exhausted, weak. Loki just hoped he had not noticed that Loki was lying virtually unconscious nearby.

Loki suddenly realised that Thor’s hand was in fact covering his, that Thor was directly beside him.

It took effort to pull his hand away, and the animal part of his brain warned him that he should not have moved, that he should have played dead, be submissive, do nothing to provoke the predator beside him. Before he could stop himself, he was mumbling protests.

“Stay away from me. Sif, keep him away from me. Please.”

He could not even properly open his eyes. His eyelids fluttered; he could see glimpses of Thor's distressed face, Sif’s determined one.

Thor whispered his name in a shocked tone. Someone removed Thor’s hand from his, and Sif said, “Come, Thor, let him be. You need to be in a healing suite also, unless you want to prolong your recovery.”

With the shape, the feel of Thor moving away, Loki untensed slightly, and spent the rest of the journey in a grey state of semi-awareness. Volstagg hovered over him, and gave him water when asked. He felt the craft enter atmosphere, Asgard’s, no doubt, as the quality of the engine’s hum shifted. 

_Now,_ he thought, _finally, I can make my way back to Jotunheim, and safety._ The thought of Jotunheim being a safe place to which to flee was a grim one, but it was the only place that would give Thor pause in following, unless he meant war. He tried to open his eyes fully, and prepared to skywalk. 

Pain lanced through him, and he curled in on himself physically, groaning at the intensity of it. In his dazed state, he had forgotten that he had injured himself by summoning too much seidr. Had injured himself further when he had been forced to further summon seidr. He panicked at the thought of being in Asgard, alone and defenceless against Thor, against the Einherjar. Knowing it was useless and dangerous, he tried to summon his seidr again to at least teleport somewhere else on Asgard, to give himself a chance to regroup. He blacked out for a moment.

Then Volstagg was holding him by the shoulders and begging him to calm himself. As he passed out again, he hoped he could depend on his friendship with Thor’s companions to protect him from the worst of Thor’s wrath.

  
  
  


Loki awoke fully he knew not how much later, but instantly aware that he was in an Asgardian medical facility. He was almost relieved to be there, to be escaping the purgatory of the never-ending nightmares that were blessedly fading even as he woke. He struggled to sit, and a healer smiled at him reassuringly, if not warmly. One of her assistants helped him and placed a supporting pillow behind him. Helplessly, Loki fell back against it, exhausted.

“Prince Loki,” the healer said in clipped tones. “You have been here for three nights, and you are well on your way to recovery. How do you feel?”

“Perfectly fine,” he muttered, unwilling to give anything away. Besides, apart from exhausted, he did not know how he felt.

She gave him a sceptical look. “I am Eir. Your physical wounds appear to be healing well, though my knowledge of Jotunn physiology is limited. You have a deep magical injury that will take time and proper rest to heal, or you risk a permanent rupture. You are welcome to stay here for as long as that takes.”

Loki breathed slowly and deeply for a moment. He did not wish to be in the healing rooms; he felt far too vulnerable. On the other hand, he would fall on his face the moment his feet touched the floor.

“Where is the king?” he found himself asking.

Eir did not answer immediately. Loki was suddenly aware of a deep, dull pain in his stomach. If Thor had not survived the trip back to Asgard then…

“I am here,” Thor’s voice said from the door. He stood there framed by the low light of the hall, as if reluctant to enter.

Loki instinctively blanked all expression in his face and body, maintaining an attitude of focus and composure, so as not to expose anything that Thor might exploit. Until Thor revealed what he wanted, Loki would be as unreadable as possible. 

Thor responded to his silence with a nod, and dropped his eyes to the ground. 

“I am glad you are well, Loki. I truly feared...it matters not. You are well, and you are safe. We both are. May I come into your room?”

Loki nodded expressionlessly. “As your majesty wishes.”

Thor hesitated, and took a step in. He nodded at Eir in a gesture of thanks and dismissal, and she swept out. Even knowing she could not protect him, Loki wished she would stay.

Thor looked wretched, almost as ruined as Loki felt. He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, almost crouching, spreading his arms helplessly.

“I did not know what I was doing, Loki.”

Loki lay back slowly, accepting the Thor intended only to talk. He did not answer.

“Loki. You felt the Grandmaster’s influence on your mind. You, too, lost yourself to his power. You surely understand how little choice I had!”

_So the king of Asgard wishes for forgiveness, does he?_

“Whose fault is it that I had little choice, Thor? Who held me down while the Grandmaster destroyed my mind?”

Thor made a distressed noise, and turned in a circle, like an animal in pain. Loki could see from his movements how exhausted he was in his recovery, with none of the vitality or brashness that Thor exuded as a matter of course. 

No matter. Loki intended to drive a penitent Thor away with the right words so Loki would not have to fight his way out. He had no way to leave Asgard without Thor’s assistance and grace, to be sure, but he would jump that hurdle when it reared up. 

He continued to spit blunt and painful truths. “The Grandmaster could only force us to do what we were inclined to do anyway. He blinded you to the consequences of your urges to fight and win, yes, but you still were happy to fight and kill for his entertainment! It seems to be my need, my instinct, my _fate_ to serve you on my knees, and so he corrupted me and bent my will to yours, with _your_ help!” 

Loki pulled the bracelet Thor had once gifted him from his wrist and threw it at Thor, the effort near exhausting him. The once fine filigree and silver workings of the replica Mjolnir were now blurred and distorted from the heat of the lightning that Thor had struck Loki with that night to subdue him. Thor flinched as he was hit by the bracelet, and did not seem capable of picking it up from where it fell.

Loki took hold of his composure again, somewhat. “And it seems your hatred for my kind resides in you still, dormant but unabated, and all it took was a crook of the Grandmaster’s finger to bring it to the fore once more.” Loki was no longer shouting, but stating matters calmly, as if he was distant from them. 

Thor was breathing heavily, almost panting. “Loki...I thought you had been replaced by a creature of the Grandmaster. That you were a monster wearing the face of my love. I was _mad_. I tried to resist, but I was mad! Surely you do not believe that words spoken in madness reflect who I am! You have seen me in anger, in joy, in defeat, in victory, in drunkenness and euphoria, in despair and jealousy and surprise and disgust! In love and lust! You know me! Do you think that I, in my right mind, would think that way? Would willingly act on such impulses if they presented themselves? In my right mind, I would always have a choice, and surely you know how I would choose when in my right mind!”

Loki hardened his heart at the sight and sound of Thor’s desperation. He could not afford to be soft here, and he did not wish to be. The Grandmaster could not exploit what was not already there, and Thor’s rage against Frost Giants had been dragged from the depths of his soul and almost killed Loki.

Thor waited for him to speak. When he did not, Thor cried out, despair weighing on his voice, “Loki, do you not remember what happened? It took Mjolnir’s power to break down the chains in my mind imposed by the Grandmaster! But I tried to resist, I did! At the end, as you became Jotunn once more, I truly saw you, I finally recognised you. Surely you know that I tried!”

Loki looked at him, face expressionless again. He was so tired from all of this.

“You should have tried harder.”

Thor stared at him, unable to respond.

“We are done, Thor. Please go. I can’t bear to look at you. When I close my eyes, I see your face spitting hatred into mine. Yours is the face of the man who hunted me down like prey and threatened my people. I am _sick_ of the sight of you. Leave me be.”

Thor blinked for a couple of moments, then bent to pick up the lightning-struck bracelet, and turned to go. 

Loki was asleep again before Thor had crossed the threshold and left.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Loki woke again, the first thing he saw was Odin seated stiffly by his bed. The old king needed neither the throne Hlidskjalf nor the spear Gungnir to project majesty. Loki pulled himself to a sitting position with some difficulty, but felt no less vulnerable. He did not try to school his face, and did not care when he realised he was scowling. He should act with respect to his father's old foe _(and Thor's beloved father, his heart whispered to him)_ but he no longer had it in him to hide his true self or his feelings.

Loki expected to feel the power of that penetrating, all-seeing eye, but to his surprise, he was entirely unaffected by Odin One-Eye's gaze. He decided to let Odin speak first, though Loki's relative age and rank called for him to greet his elder and better and acknowledge him so. Loki did not care, just then. He owed the house of Bor nothing, not even courtesy.

Odin smiled, a gentle smile. His resemblance to his son caught Loki by surprise at times, as Thor most obviously favoured his mother in looks. Loki had once considered the value of spending some time with the Allfather, no matter how intimidating the old god was, as it became clear to him that though Thor resembled his mother at first glance, at his core Thor was very much his father's son.

And there it was, a smile that was pure Thor, all the more strange in its familiarity for being on Odin's face. "It seems I owe you a second debt, Loki-prince," he said.

Loki was already exhausted by the conversation. "How so, Allfather?" His voice was rough from sleep, and he cleared his throat. Odin reached for a jug and handed him a glass of cold water.

"You brought my son safely to me a second time, perhaps in slightly rougher condition than ideal, this time. Then again, Thor is a very physical learner."

Loki nodded. "You are mistaken, Allfather. I had no intention of bringing Thor home, neither on this occasion nor the first. The first time, I was simply ridding Jotunheim of its invaders. This time, I had intended to leave him dead, if necessary, on the fighting grounds so I could reach my true target, who your son was guarding from me."

Loki would accept no thanks from the once king of Asgard.

Odin nodded, a nod of acknowledgement, not agreement. He was silent for a moment.

When he spoke again, it was in a grave, but still gentle, voice. "Laufey is dying, Loki-prince."

Loki stilled. The impulse to accuse Odin of lying faded as quickly as it rose. He did not ask how Odin knew. Odin not only saw all, he understood all that he saw, or enough of it for the difference not to matter.

Odin gave him a moment.

"I see this is news to you, boy."

Loki did not bother to pretend otherwise. He sat in the bed, silent, no doubt dishevelled from slumber and illness, and simply returned Odin's regard with as unperturbed a one of his own that he could muster. He was not upset with the news, nor whom had delivered it to him, not yet. He did not have the strength to absorb it fully, much less react.

Odin waited for a moment, but when Loki remained silent, he spoke again.

"You may need support in the months to come, when you officially acknowledge that you sit on the Jotunn throne. I hope you remember that you have friends here, including Thor, that you may call on."

Loki scoffed.

Odin grimaced. "Perhaps I should have asked Frigga to bring this news. No mind, it is done. I have instructed the Watcher to obey your wishes if you decide to travel from Asgard using the Bifrost, no matter your destination. You are free to leave whenever you feel you must."

Loki closed his eyes and inclined his head fractionally. He did not thank Odin for the many kindnesses he had just shown, he could not. He did not wish to cry in front of the Allfather.

Odin stood, slowly but with a sureness about him that spoke of old strength. "There will always be a welcome for you in Asgard, son of Laufey."

Loki could not respond.

Odin did not leave immediately. At the door, he turned and paused. Loki opened his eyes and turned his head tiredly to look at him. What could he want from Loki now?

"You and Thor were both born to be kings, Loki, and more. You may not desire a throne, but you need to be strong enough to steady the Jotunn one for now."

Loki laughed, half a sob, really.

"I thank you for reminding me of my duty, Allfather. Perhaps speak to your son about having strength enough before you speak to me."

Odin simply looked at him for a moment, and then left the room, closing the door gently.

Loki slept.

When he woke, the room was empty, and a plate of bread and cheese was on the table by the window, along with an apple and a still cool glass of milk. He got out of the bed and sat by the window, enjoying the cool breeze and sunshine.

Thor was managing his moods, perhaps. Loki did not think that Thor would have recovered his equanimity this quickly, but who was to know. Thor's moods were no longer his concern. Loki was glad of the temperate nature of the day's weather, all the same. He could feel Thor's presence everywhere as it was, beginning to thread itself again minutely through the air and the sky, and did not wish for the intrusion of dramatic weather on top of that. He thought about what might ail Laufey. He could not imagine his father unwell, never mind...

A soft knock on the door alerted him to the fact that he sat in his bed wear, this late in the morning. "A moment, please," he called as he instinctively summoned seidr to clothe himself. He recoiled as the strain for even such a simple thing bloomed inside him, and after waiting until the shudders passed, walked shakily to where a robe hung and pulled that about himself instead.

A servant would not have knocked so, leaving Loki to wonder who was at the door. He called permission to enter, and was surprised at the flash of disappointment that it was not Thor come to beg, or perhaps reason with him or even rage at him. Instead, Frigga stood before him.

She smiled, and placed a neat pile of clothing on a chair. "How are you feeling? Perhaps you are up to walking in my gardens with me today, or tomorrow if you prefer."

He gave a slight bow. "Oh. Thank you, Allmother." He loved Frigga dearly, despite the relative briefness of their acquaintance, but he did not wish to talk to her about her son, or his father, or himself for that matter.

Before he had a chance to politely demur, she continued, "I have brought clothes for you. You may feel better properly dressed, even if you continue to recuperate indoors. But I am certain that some fresh air in my gardens will do you the world of good. We can talk about everything, or nothing, Loki. I simply wish for your company and to share the new additions to my herb garden with you, if you have an interest."

Loki had a passing interest in herbs for their uses in potions and casting, but he understood that this was an excuse. An excuse for Frigga to spend some time alone with him, and for her to take the opportunity to heal his heart a little, to mother him. Frigga could and should have directed a servant to deliver clothing to a guest. Instead she chose to bring the clothes herself, an act beneath a queen of Asgard, but befitting a mother. His spirits lifted, some of his anger and bitterness melting away in the light of Frigga's love, despite all that had passed between Loki and her true son.

"I would be honoured, Allmother." He inclined his head, minutely.

Frigga smiled and shook her head in amusement. "Such lovely manners, Loki." He grinned at her mischievously, and felt something like happiness gently settle around him.

Dressing took less time and effort than he feared, and he took Frigga's hand as he left the bedroom and joined her in the sitting room where she had waited for him. She allowed him to escort her through the palace. He kept his gaze focussed on Frigga as they chatted, or on their path directly ahead, hoping to avoid catching Thor's eye if he too was about the palace today. As they stepped out into the public gardens, Loki saw that many of the palace staff and residents were taking their ease in the sunshine too. It must be near the high holidays of summer.

Many of them acknowledged their queen with an incline of the head as they passed, which she received graciously. Loki felt eyes rake over him, and he did not bother to worry as he would have before. It mattered not whether they saw him as a Jotunn monster, or as a curiousity, or as a visiting prince, or as their king's paramour. Former paramour, now. It mattered not. He had been welcomed once in Asgard as a hero. It mattered not.

And then, as he and Frigga descended the steps of public gardens which led to Frigga's personal one, he caught sight of Thor not thirty yards away. He was on the grass, lying flat on his back, surrounded by young women and small children of different ages, and holding aloft a blonde toddler who made high pitched noises of glee as she was swooped through the air in strong hands. Thor laughed with her, looking a little better than he had the previous day in Loki’s room. 

Loki was not prepared for the pang of want that bloomed in his chest as he watched Thor's joy in the tiny girl. She was unlikely to be Thor's daughter, but she easily could have been. Loki shook himself. Again, Frigga began to receive informal acknowledgements from her subjects, but her attempt to discreetly exit the public part of the garden was scuppered when Thor noticed them.

"Loki? Mother!" He gawped for a moment, and on seeing Frigga sigh and come to a stop, clearly decided to take advantage of her reluctance to embarrass her son, the king, by ignoring him in front of the palace servants and their families.

Frigga discreetly nudged Loki towards her garden, murmuring, "I shall join you in a quick moment," but Loki had no interest in avoiding Thor. Let Thor feel awkward if he must, it mattered not to him.

Thor returned the child to her smiling mother, and pulled himself to his feet as the little one made grabby hands at him and beseeching noises.

Thor had composed himself by the time he reached Frigga and Loki, remembering himself enough to greet his mother first. He nodded to Loki, hesitating a moment before saying, "You look better. Out of bed, I see." His face fell slightly as he heard the inanity of his words.

"Yes, I feel a little better. Thank you." It took no effort to be polite, strangely, although in not acknowledging Thor's status in any way, Loki had casually offered a grave insult insult in the king's own palace. It was customary to bow or curtsey when formally meeting a member of the royal family for the first time in the day, but Loki could not bring himself to offer the customary respects. Thor did not seem to notice, or perhaps did not care, which was just as well.

Frigga spoke up, clearly drawing the conversation, if it could be called that, to a close. "Loki and I are going to do some work in the herb garden, Thor. I shall see you at dinner."

"Yes, Mother. Loki, are you...?" Thor seemed about to ask if Loki was going to join them, but thought better of it. He cleared his throat, and bowed slightly. "Enjoy your afternoon."

Loki could feel Thor's blue eyes follow them as he and Frigga continued to the entrance of her gardens. Frigga said nothing as they walked deeper, but rested her elbow in his arm as if it were he escorting her around this place of which she was sole mistress. Loki appreciated her accepting silence, her respect for his decision, and her deft handling of a situation which could easily have become unpleasant without a skilled diplomat to steer through.

They stayed in the herb garden for some time, discussing the beauty and utilitarian nature of each herb, many of which with Loki was familiar, some he had not seen for himself before, and a handful of which he had no knowledge. His hands smelled pleasantly of their freshness and variety, and he felt moved to compliment Frigga on how they thrived.

"Ah," she said, smiling, a twinkle in her eye. "I have a little help with that sometimes. If I have an herb that is struggling to adapt to the soil or the climate, I cheat a little. Thor has the most amazing green fingers."

She smiled at him as he muttered, "Of course he does."

"Oh Loki," said Frigga, a little sadly. "Let me show you something."

Reluctantly, he followed the queen to another section of the garden, an allotment that was slightly wilder than those around it. Loki knew exactly whose it was. Thor's section was not unkempt by any means, but every plant there was slightly larger than her sisters elsewhere, every rose more rounded and lush and heavy, every tulip taller and more intensely coloured. 

A spray of wildflowers had erupted at the top end of the allotment, spreading their petals in exuberant abundance and profusion. Loki could not stop himself from carefully stroking the petals of an enormous and deep red poppy with his fingertips as bees hummed around him, busily but peacably.

"My son," sighed Frigga, "has never been what I would call a delicate boy, quite the opposite. But he is in his way sensitive, and fond of beauty, and is quite dedicated to this small allotment of his even now."

Loki did not allow his expression to change, but he was, he had to admit to himself, somewhat agog at the idea of Thor, the Thunderer himself, kneeling in the dirt, carefully tending these sprouting, vigorous things whose only purpose was to be beautiful.

"I would offer you an allotment of your own here, Loki, if you were to return, I can tell you have a feel for such things. I would ask of you to bring some native flowers of Jotunheim, if it was not too much trouble, though I might also ask your assistance in adapting and cultivating them here, in such a different environment. It would be a fine challenge, don't you think?"

Loki smiled. He could arrange to please Frigga a little, at least. "I will be sure to see that you receive some offcuts and seeds of our most beautiful flowers, my Queen." She smiled sadly, accepting his refusal. He would ask the finest royal gardeners in Utgard for a volunteer willing to work in the Queen of Asgard's private garden, if Thor allowed it, to help her bed in and cultivate her Jotunn acquisitions.

Loki soon tired, despite not engaging in anything taxing, and he thanked Frigga for her hospitality and her kindness.

"Rest well, Loki. Shall I continue to have dinner sent to your room?"

Loki knew this was Frigga's way of inviting him to dinner without forcing him to refuse outright, and he graciously accepted her offer to continue taking his meals alone in his room. Deciding he would probably be strong enough to depart Asgard the next day if he used the Bifrost, he realised how nervous he was to be returning to Jotunheim without his seidr to rely on. If news had spread among the ambitious in Utgard that the king was dying, Loki might find himself walking into a pit of snakes. Well, he was just as adept with knives and his cutting tongue as he was with seidr. All would be well, and if it was not, he would make it so.

He left Frigga's garden deep in thought, and almost tripped over Thor, who was sitting on the steps outside.

"What..." Loki realised he had no right to question the king of Asgard in his own palace, as Thor scrambled to his feet. "I did not see you, my apologies." _Were you waiting here to ambush me, Thor?_ He wished he had asked about other exits from Frigga's garden. With some effort, he softened the scowl on his face and put on as neutral an expression as he could manage. He needed to get out of Asgard as soon as possible; he could not afford to provoke or be provoked into any kind of conflict with the king.

Thor had an infuriatingly sheepish look on his own face. This would not last. Once the Thunderer realised that Loki could not be persuaded to change his mind on the matter of their relationship, he would revert to form and try to strong arm Loki emotionally, and perhaps even physically if he saw no other option.

Though Loki had spoken true when he had said that he was sick of the sight of Thor, he also yearned for him. That was natural. Feelings and desires could rarely be shut off like a spigot, the end of such things were rarely neat and clean. It would be so much easier for his anger to overwhelm all and be done with it. _Ah, but I would not choose it to be so even if it were possible_ , he thought sadly. What he and Thor had had deserved to be mourned, its death deserved grief and pain, for a time anyway.

"I...wanted to make sure you returned to your apartments safely. Or to wherever your destination might be. May I escort you?"

Damn him. Loki would have to take the consequences of a refusal, whatever they might be. They were unlikely to be immediate or crude, though, and Thor was not one to bear a grudge usually. Loki had to leave Asgard immediately, no matter how exhausted he was, though. Otherwise, he might find himself building up a list of transgressions against Thor by rejecting his attempts to reach out to Loki. It would bite him on the backside in the future once Thor lost patience and hope with him. Best nip that in the bud.

"I wish to be alone, Thor." _What part of 'I cannot bear the sight of you' do you not understand?_ "But thank you."

The last he gritted out. He was not grateful for Thor’s supposed concern. Loki knew the difference between kindness and selfishness.

He was being harsh, he grudgingly admitted to himself.

Forcing his tired legs on, he broke eye contact with Thor and left, trying not to carry the image of the hurt and regret he saw there.

Back in his room, he lay on his bed. He would nap, eat dinner, and leave. At least he did not have to ask Thor for permission to use the Bifrost, thanks to Odin's instructions to Heimdall. He was sure Thor did not know of Odin's actions in this. Would Odin tell Thor of Laufey's illness? _Devious old man._ He was not sure if he meant Odin or Laufey.

He sighed. Perhaps he was being too hard on Thor. Perhaps Thor would not grow angry in his rejection, perhaps he would accept it and his own role in it, and meet Loki in the future with respect, if nothing else. It did not matter, really. Loki's only concern now was how he himself could come to terms with the reality of their relationship. 

As he lay on his bed, the late afternoon sun of Asgard streaming over him through the beautiful windows, Loki began to cry.

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	18. The King of Asgard

Loki disappearing in the night to who knows where should not have come as a surprise, but somehow, it did. Thor had thought that they would at least have time to talk as Loki recovered, maybe even to resolve things. Instead, though barely able to sit up in his bed, barely able to attend to Frigga in her gardens, Loki had somehow found the wherewithal to leave Asgard. 

It took Thor a full day to realise Loki had truly gone. He had assumed that Loki would turn up by nightfall, but when on the second morning Loki’s bed remained unoccupied, Thor realised that Loki had no intention of returning. That he had left Thor. 

Thor made his way to Heimdall as soon as that sinking feeling began to settle in his stomach, determined to find out if Loki had somehow talked his way past the gatekeeper. Heimdall confirmed his fears, telling Thor that there had been no reason for Heimdall to forbid Loki his request to leave. 

There was more to it, Thor was sure. He suspected the Allfather’s hand in this, but did not wish for Heimdall to be caught between his loyalty to the old king of Asgard and the new, so he asked no further questions beyond where Loki had gone. 

Jotunheim, of course. It was the one place that Thor would be completely unwelcome, though he still considered trampling through social convention and going.

Heimdall would not have stood in his way if Thor had commanded him to open the Bifrost to the roof of the palace of Utgard now, which had been open to Asgard since the end of the last war. But Thor realised that if he punched his way through this situation, he would only drive Loki further from him. 

And perhaps Loki simply wanted to go home.

He had to continue the course he had set after he and Loki had spoken when Loki had finally awoken. Three days Thor had spent sitting by Loki’s bed, willing him to wake, only slightly reassured by Eir’s assessment that like Thor, Loki’s physical injuries were healing rapidly, that it was the unseen injury to his magical self that required him to sleep so deeply and so long. That too would heal in time. 

After Loki had finally woken, Thor did as he had promised himself, and accepted the sorcerer’s justified anger, his sharply truthful words. Thor had spoken his piece, his unworthy defence, as calm and controlled as he had been able, though he had not been able to hide his distress. But because Loki wanted and needed him to walk away, Thor had walked away. _There will be time,_ he had thought. _When Loki is stronger, in days or weeks, we will speak again._

To demonstrate his worthiness, his willingness to accept Loki’s refusal to speak with him further, Thor had controlled his urge to let the weather rage, to let _himself_ rage. He had avoided Loki’s rooms, did not petition or argue or beg. Loki would see that the raging, hateful beast that Thor had been reduced to in their last moments on Sakaar was not who Thor really was. Loki would simply have to look out the window to see how well Thor could control himself, when given the choice. 

When he had seen Loki accompany Frigga to her gardens, he had, he thought, comported himself well again. He had not imposed himself on Loki, he had not insisted on accompanying them, or that Loki join them for dinner. He had waited on the steps by Frigga’s garden like a loyal hound in case Loki needed assistance.

Deep inside, he knew these actions did not meet even the bare minimum for restitution for what he had done. They demonstrated nothing but that he had set the bar for worthy behaviour terribly low. 

He thought often of that last time he had seen Loki as he visited Frigga’s garden. In an attempt to restore his own sense of self, Thor had been spending time with childhood companions, once children of the palace household who had grown up with him to become servants of the palace themselves, many of whom now had children of their own. 

It had done him good to be with those who had known him from when they were small children together. Status and different duties had meant that a boundary had been laid down between him and them from early adolescence, yet they still shared a childhood intimacy, and did not stand on ceremony with him in private. 

Listening to the palace gossip, at least of the kind that women would permit men to hear, and doting on their little ones, Thor had some respite from his own thoughts for a little time. His companions had asked after ‘Prince Loki’, genuine concern for Loki’s wellbeing not entirely masking their amused curiosity at Thor’s obvious infatuation with the mysterious Jotunn sorcerer. He was able to honestly reply that Loki was finally awake and recovering. 

Glancing up to see what had caused the low susurration of surprise that had swept the gardens that day, he had been astonished to see Loki, his Jotunn skin a shock of dark beauty against the pastels of the garden behind him, walking with Frigga. Loki had been politely dismissive of him, but Thor held out hope that he might permit Thor to at least walk with him back to the healing wing. He looked exhausted still and might very well need an escort. 

To the amusement and then concern of his companions, he sat on the steps by the entrance to the garden for what was probably only an hour but had seemed like the full afternoon, only to be scathingly refused by Loki. Loki had left, and Thor sat back down for some time, wondering what he could do. 

All he could do was continue to respect Loki’s expressed wishes. He had just shown Loki again that he could do so, had he not? It was time to leave Loki be entirely, until Loki chose to reach out to Thor. Thor would enquire after Loki’s health from Eir, and that would be all. 

It came as a surprise the next day when Eir told Thor had Loki appeared to have left in the night. Fine, he had thought. He had to accept that he coming on too strong and that he would have to step back. Loki did not want his company or attention. So he would leave Loki be. 

It came as a proper shock the following morning when he had discovered that Loki had not returned at all. 

On discovering that Loki had returned to Jotunheim, Thor squared his shoulders and did not follow. He wrote a short letter to be delivered via the Jotunn ambassador and decided to wait. 

_Loki, I do not have your facility with words, so I will be frank. I beg your indulgence for my shortcomings in this, as in all things. This past week came very suddenly, our time together has gone past too fast. I will wait for the grace of your regard for as long as it takes. I accept that it may be never but pray you will find it in your heart to speak to me again, as a friend, even if no more than that. Thor_

He handed the letter over, and he waited. 

  
  


It had been months since Loki had left. Thor thought that for the most part he was successfully hiding the extent of his turmoil, as a king should, though he suspected his mother knew, and probably Sif.

_You should have tried harder._

Loki was right, Loki was usually right. Thor should have tried harder. If resisting the Grandmaster's grip on his mind had let to its destruction, to madness or to the void, what of it? Better mad or mindless than to have perpetrated what he had on Loki.

Thor should have tried harder.

He went about his daily duties as effectively as he could, and was a good king, a good leader. He mostly had to only go through the motions, though occasionally leadership was required instead of mere administration. He felt sure he rose to the demands of those situations too; the calming of a feud between rival nobles, an environmental problem requiring the people to relocate from the lands of their ancestors; the successful hosting in Asgard of people that Thor could not like, personally or politically, in pursuit of a long overdue peace.

His father had cast a proud eye on Thor's solutions, which gave Thor now-rare moments of contentment, a feeling that all was well and as they should be. But even these moments were soured by the absence of Loki, with whom he would have shared the satisfaction of those accomplishments.

He did not sleep well, ate only as needed to keep his strength up for his duties, and felt a constant dull pain in the centre of his chest that sometimes felt like it climbed into his throat when he was not preoccupied with something else.

Any time he was in residence in the palace, Thor had always ensured to attend a weekly appointment with the Jotunn diplomatic delegation since their arrival on Asgard in the wake of the end of the most recent war. He could have deputised any of his councillors without offending the Frost Giants, but he had always done them the honour of attending personally out of respect for Loki's people, and as a private restitution for the crimes he had committed in Jotunheim. 

In the months since Loki's departure, each week he had considered closing the meeting with a request to the ambassador to offer Thor's personal greeting to Loki-prince, and each week decided against it. The ambassador was always respectful and attentive, but never hinted at any news of Loki, let alone carried any message back from Loki.

Between each of these meetings, he swung from anger to self-recrimination to regret and back again, waiting until it was time to meet with the Jotunn ambassador again, in case this time, against all the odds and Thor's expectations, there was word from Loki.

He should have tried harder.

One night like any other, he stared at his bedroom ceiling, once again unable to sleep.

_I am sickened by the sight of you._

Rolling over to reach for a book and a light source, he saw the shadows to the left of his bed shift in the near darkness. The truth was, if there was an intruder in his room, it was more likely to be an assassin than Loki, but nevertheless he questioningly whispered the sorcerer's name as he tried to discern shapes in the shadows of the moonlit room. 

Loki stepped silently into the direct moonlight, his dark blue skin almost glowing. "Shh, Thunderer. No words now. May I...may I lay with you tonight?"

Thor was already as if he had been struck mute. Among his jumbled thoughts was near relief that Loki had forbidden him to speak, and he nodded dumbly.

Loki slid easily into the bed beside him, as he had done countless times before, though still clothed this time. They lay on their sides, facing each other for a few moments. Loki's red eyes carried a weight that Thor could not interpret. Somehow, he could tell that Loki wore his Jotunn form more comfortably now than when Thor had seen him so previously. Loki reached out and cupped Thor's cheek, stroking it with his thumb, shifting to kiss Thor on the lips. Thor kissed him back, featherlight, terrified that Loki would melt away if he pressed too hard.

They lay kissing for some time, the kisses deepening, the cool of Loki's skin against Thor's a soothing balm. Thor was not sure what he was allowed to do, allowed to touch, so he hesitantly lay a hand on Loki's hip. Loki ended the kiss, not abruptly exactly, but it was a definite pulling away, his hand moving from where it cupped Thor's face down to Thor's shoulder. Thor allowed his own hand to fall naturally back on the bed between them and waited for Loki to decide on what was to happen between them next.

"I did not intend for...it doesn't matter," said Loki. He sat up beside Thor, who fought down a pang of fear and disappointment at Loki apparently preparing to leave again. But instead, Loki gently pressed on Thor's shoulder, pushing him so he was lying on his back on the bed, looking up at Loki.

"Loki..."

"Thor, please. There is nothing to say between us tonight. Please."

Thor was puzzled by Loki's tone, neither demanding nor asking. He sounded as if he was making a regrettable statement of fact, speaking words he did not want to but that were true, nevertheless. Thor could feel sadness in Loki, and something else, something brittle that he remembered from the battlefield the night Asgard prepared its final assault on Utgard what seemed like a long time ago. A quivering, desperate quality.

He wondered what had his...what had the sorcerer so out of sorts. 

He had no right to ask.

To his surprise, Loki straddled him, but quickly worked his way down Thor's body. Loki had Thor's legs pinned between his own as he knelt over Thor, his hands reaching for Thor's sleeping shorts. Thor raised his hips without thinking, to allow Loki pull them lower, feeling strangely vulnerable.

Loki took him in hand, his cock half-hard, and bent to lick at his balls. Thor had bedded no-one since Loki had left, and realised he had barely even bothered masturbating over the last number of months, except in an attempt to relax himself enough to sleep.

Loki's clever, hot hand, his tongue and his lips drew Thor's cock to fullness, reminding Thor forcefully of an appetite and need he had been neglecting now for long months. He groaned as Loki began to lick and suck on the head of his cock, teasing kitten licks, hot swirls of his tongue, lips closing over the opening to gently suck and coax him to needy hardness, Loki's hands working the shaft and balls skillfully.

Thor yearned for Loki to look him in the eye while working him, to acknowledge him and their connection, but Loki paid him no mind. He licked and sucked and swirled and pumped Thor's cock at a slow steady pace, so achingly familiar despite Loki's unfamiliar form, but his eyes were closed, his expression showing no indication that he was aware of Thor's presence beyond his cock and balls.

Despite this, Thor could sense Loki's full focus on him. He was a god, and knew what worship felt like.

Just as Thor started to favour the idea of Loki picking up his pace, his intensity, Loki withdrew his attentions. He wiped his swollen lips absently, and still did not look directly at Thor. Thor bit his tongue before he said Loki's name again. He did not know what else he wanted to say anyway, beyond things that Loki would have no interest in hearing.

To Thor's surprise, Loki removed his own cotton tunic and breeches with a swift peeling of seidr across his body, and now sat naked on Thor, bracketing his legs still. Thor had never seen Loki undress using sorcery before; even when he was stripping quickly, he preferred to do so by hand, to titillate Thor, for one. He was as beautiful as ever, more so even, lean and strong, slightly more feminine in this form, his dark cock standing to attention.

Loki shifted and bent over, caging Thor with his arms briefly while he knelt over Thor's now weeping, neglected cock. The heat of Loki's groin hovering over his caused Thor's cock to leap and twitch, as if it was straining and seeking Loki's entrance, yearning for that tight, wet heat as Thor yearned for the warmth of Loki's attention, of his affection. There was no sense of affection here, despite the intense intimacy. Thor could make no sense of it, and did not try.

Loki sat back a little, and took Thor's cock in hand again. He positioned himself so it lined up with the entrance of his cunt, running its head along those soft, moist lips, eliciting a groan from Thor and a slower, hitching gasp from Loki. Finally he looked at Thor, and said, "I am not well practised at this. You will have to grant me some patience, Thunderer."

 _Anything_ , thought Thor, _I will grant you anything you ask_. But he said nothing aloud, just nodded and squeezed his eyes shut in case tears betrayed him.

Loki somewhat awkwardly lowered himself on to Thor's cock, shuddering as, bit by bit, he took the whole of Thor inside him. Thor groaned again as he was enveloped in a welcoming soft, hot wet tightness, the sensation drawing heat from his lower back and belly. He found himself wanting to smile at Loki's relative lack of his usual grace and control. As far as Thor was aware, this was Loki's second time engaging in this act, and his first time on top.

Loki ground down gently, testing for comfort and pleasure, his eyes closed, making small gasping noises of discomfort and growing pleasure. He went still, and Thor gasped as he felt Loki flex those velvet muscles around his cock in a rolling motion, his hips twitching slightly in tandem. Thor thought he might die here contented, his love bearing down on him, sheathing his cock, using him, being pleasured by a force beyond his control, a strength he would never know.

Loki ground down again, and Thor gripped his hips and thrust up gently. Loki moaned, a wondering look on his face as he felt Thor even deeper inside him. He began to roll his hips in earnest, testing again, judging the best position, the perfect blend of depth and pressure and rhythm. As Loki found the right blend to drive rhythmic groans of pleasure from himself, Thor began thrusting gently again in time with him, and again found himself wanting to smile at the near surprise and clear wonder on Loki's face he moaned at the spasms of pleasure their motions caused.

Soon they were in perfect harmony, Thor meeting Loki's thrusts with enthusiasm, but carefully, for fear Loki's inexperience might push him too far. Loki's hands went to Thor's shoulders, and Thor realised Loki was approaching climax. Thor gripped Loki's hips harder and began to thrust faster and slightly more erratically to tease Loki to a longer, more intense orgasm. Loki's face was a picture of ecstasy as his sharp intelligence faded behind his eyes, driven away by mounting pleasure.

Thor could not help himself as he saw Loki hover on the very edge of that peak, and said softly, with intent, "Come for me, my love."

Thor did not hear Loki speak, but saw his lips form the word "Thor..." as he came almost silently, grinding down fiercely on Thor's cock, every cell in his body driven by instinct and instinct only. Thor continued thrusting, seeing him through it, and realised he too was about to come. He gripped Loki's hips tight and began to use Loki's body to drive him towards his own peak. The tension was leaving Loki's body as Thor came, pumping ropes and ropes of come deep inside.

Loki half collapsed forward onto Thor's chest as Thor thrust one last time. They were both boneless, sticky and sweaty. Loki managed to pull himself up on Thor's chest, leaning on his forearms. Though he was too exhausted to put any heat into his words, he was clearly displeased, perhaps saddened; more likely resigned, Thor thought, as he said, "I asked you not to speak, Thor."

Thor did not bother to respond. Loki lay his head in the crook of Thor's neck, wrapped an arm across his chest, and was instantly asleep. Thor followed him into slumber almost immediately.

Thor was not sure what had woken him. The rising sun was beginning to stream sunlight in through his window, and Loki was still deeply asleep. A knock on the door came, and the door was opened a crack. He heard Sif's voice whisper loudly, "Thor? Wake, please. I have urgent news."

Urgent news indeed for Sif to disturb him so early. His heart leapt as he considered the health of his mother and father, but just as quickly he realised if the news concerned Frigga or Odin, Sif would not have hesitated at all to come in.

"Enter," he called in a low voice.

Sensing he had company, Sif slipped in quietly, curiousity painting her face about with whom Thor had finally broken his sexual fast. She looked shocked when she saw Loki, and then understanding and compassion crossed her face, which confused Thor. What did Sif know that he didn't?

"What news?" he whispered, more irritably than he meant.

Sif visibly gathered herself.

"Heimdall brings news from Jotunheim. King Laufey is dead."

Thor took a moment to absorb the news. Laufey, dead. It did not seem possible. Even now, the name evoked for Thor childhood terrors, based on stories of Jotunn outrages and aggressions carried out by that supposedly monstrous alien enemy race. Laufey seemed as formidable, as remote and untouchable, as the peak of the highest mountain, as unfellable as the world tree. 

Thor knew him to be a bitter, conspiratorial exploiter of his realm and his people -and of his son, who now lay in Thor's arms. Knew him to be a much smaller and more pitiable man than he had seemed in Thor's childhood nightmares. Still, the idea of him simply dying seemed almost laughable.

"You are sure this is true, Sif?"

"Certain. The Allfather lights a flame in his memory even now. Loki...I am sorry."

Thor realised he had felt the brush of Loki's eyelashes on his chest as Loki awoke, or perhaps no longer feigned sleep.

"Thank you," Loki said in a quiet voice.

Loki had known. This was not news to him.

Sif bowed slightly and left.

Thor did not know quite what to say. The simplest thing would be best, he supposed, and it was truth as well. "Loki, I too am sorry."

Loki lifted himself off of Thor, and got out of the bed. He cleaned and dressed himself in a swirl of seidr and did not look at Thor. "You hated him."

Thor sighed. "Perhaps, but you loved him."

"Sometimes, yes."

Thor scoffed. "We do not stop loving someone because we are angry with them, Loki." He winced as he heard what he was saying even as he said it.

Loki looked at him then, but said nothing beyond, "I must go."

He started to fade as the image of Yggdrasil flared to life around him. Thor would swear the image was more real, more tangible, each time he witnessed Loki prepare to walk the skies.

"Loki wait! When will you...Am I going to see you again?"

Loki smiled tightly. "We will see each other at the funeral, Thor-king."

He stepped away, and was gone. Gone to mourn his father, and to embrace the throne of Jotunheim, far from Thor's grasp.


	19. Funeral Rites

The funeral of the king of the Frost Giants was going to be as political as any royal wedding, as any inter-realm tourney. The death of Laufey would be used by Prince Loptr, now officially king, and his council to complete the restoration of Jotunheim to the Nine Realms. Dark memories of Laufey's madness and his near ruin of his land and people, first in greedy expansionism, and then in pursuit of bitter revenge against Asgard, would be buried with him, or at least swept aside in the light of a new king.

Thor carefully read the official letter notifying all the active realms of Laufey's funeral arrangements for any sign of Loki's hand in the phrasing or details, but of course the letter was the very essence of dry bureaucracy, but the first from Jotunheim in centuries that acknowledged the king of Asgard’s rank as the first among equals, the Protector of the Nine Realms.

With the Allfather increasingly physically fragile, and Frigga disliking leaving him alone in such circumstances. Thor would be accompanied by Sif and Hogun instead, as intimates of the king of Asgard. None of them had been to Jotunheim since they had been summarily dismissed by Loki, who had seized the role of regent at the end of the last war between the two realms. Thor wondered what kind of a welcome awaited them there now, and land they had ravaged so very recently while prosecuting what Thor had thought of as a just war, back then. Not so long ago. It would never be long enough ago.

A day later, Thor and his companions were prepared to leave, resplendent in the finest courtly but somber clothing. 

They arrived on the roof of the palace almost on the very spot that he and Loki had talked through the night so long ago, it seemed, while the Asgardian army had besieged without, and Laufey had plotted within. Loki and a band of his counsellors were present to greet visitors. Loki looked regal and sombre, more than ready to deal with the arrival of so many prying eyes from across the Nine, all come to pay their respects and gawk at the new young king. Loptr the shadow prince, once Laufey's near-secret firstborn son, acknowledged only in private; now his only heir.

Loki stiffly returned Thor's slight bow, which was appropriate to the king of Asgard visiting a monarch in their own realm. He softened somewhat for Sif as they exchanged kisses on the cheek, and for Hogun, as they clasped each other's shoulders as soldiers did. But Loki gave no indication to Thor of their intimacies of two nights previous.

Servants who towered over them all politely took from the Asgardians their travel accoutrements, and walked behind them as Loki personally escorted them to their apartments. From what Thor could remember, they were not far from Loki's own. He thought about how lonely Loki had seemed in those rooms at the time of Thor's first visit there. Despite being a prisoner and Thor's slave in the Asgardian army camp, Loki had seemed more at home there than in the palace of Utgard, his childhood home.

The funeral arrangements were to take place over three days, ostensibly to celebrate the life of the king-that-had-been and mark his passing, but really so that the-king-that-now-was could forge anew and consolidate old relationships with the rulers and leading families of the Nine Realms. Laufey's death, while unfortunate, Thor reminded himself, was also fortuitous as Jotunheim had begun to find her feet after a millennium of war, deprivation and more war. 

Loki had never seemed enthusiastic about taking the throne, and had allowed Laufey to continue nominally as king in public, though answerable to Loki in private since the end of the most recent war with Asgard. Thor felt Loki would make a good king, and hoped that he could resist his worst instincts. Power was intoxicating, but Loki at least knew his weaknesses. 

Thor did not fancy another war with the Jotunn, especially with Loki leading them against Asgard. They would fight each other to a devastating standstill, and it would take generations to recover even if it did not then devolve into a vicious and endless war of attrition.

Loki turned to the three of them as his servants arranged their belongings, and said, "Asvid will instruct you on how to call for him, should you need him." A medium-sized Frost Giant who Thor thought he might recognise from his last visit to the palace inclined his head respectfully. 

Sif and Hogun thanked him, and Thor desperately wished he could think of something to say to get Loki to properly pay attention to him, somehow. Loki was in mourning, of course, and obviously burdened with matters of state in a pivotal time for his realm, but even so, he could show Thor some sign that he still mattered to Loki beyond the formalities of diplomacy. That they were still at least friends. Instead, Loki bowed slightly and made to turn on his heel to leave. Before he could do so, Thor found himself speaking.

"Loki, may I speak to you in private, later?"

Loki looked at him with tired eyes. He was expecting this, Thor thought.

"Of course, Thor-king. An hour before dinner, if it is convenient to you?"

An hour. The minimum he could offer the king of Asgard without giving offence. Thor nodded, and Loki bowed again and left.

Out of earshot of the servants, Sif murmured, "Do not push Loki, Thor, for pity's sake. I know you are eager to repair relations with him, but you can see he is as taut as a bowstring. You could make things even more difficult for him, and harm the very thing you hope to heal."

Thor grunted at her in response, and went to his room to consider what to say.

Lunch was delivered to their common room, and Thor spent the rest of the afternoon fretting and fixing his clothing. Each outfit had been carefully selected already but he could not help but pull and primp at collars, sleeves, the fall of each piece of clothing. Hogun eyed him expressionlessly.

Thor wanted to offer Loki a gesture of good faith, a token to show that Loki could always look to Thor and Asgard for support if his realm was in need. There were tricky roads ahead for Jotunheim, and while surely Loki knew he could call on Thor and on all at Thor's disposal, Thor wanted the opportunity to underline it. He found himself desperate to remind Loki that no matter how tenuous their connection, Thor would always be willing to be a friend to Loki.

As Thor waited for Asvid at the appointed time, Sif smiled at him with compassion in her eyes and said, "Be careful, Thor. Loki has always been fragile where you are concerned."

Thor scoffed. "Loki has proven himself tougher and more resourceful than I more than once, Sif."

Sif's smile turned sad and frustrated. "Not where you are concerned, Thor. I cannot open your eyes for you, but please, open your ears to me in this."

Asvid arrived, ending the conversation.

Loki was seated already, looking out on the city of Utgard. He stood as Thor arrived, inclining his head respectfully, meeting his eye the while.

"You are welcome here, Thor-king."

"Thank you, Loki-king." Thor did not feel welcome. Asvid bowed his way out, and now that they were in private, Thor approached Loki, placing a hand gently on his upper arm and kissed him on the cheek. Loki turned his head slightly. Thor tried not to feel too saddened at the rejection. He sighed, and nodded, accepting that Loki would not acknowledge any intimacies between them. Thor would not allow Loki to put him on the back foot, though, and so responded with as much semi-formality as Loki had introduced.

"Let us sit, Loki-king," he said, wryly.

Loki did not smile as they sat, but poured Thor a tea, Thor thought. The reception room was cool, not as bitterly cold as it would have been had Loki not affected the temperature somehow for Thor's comfort, but Thor knew full well that Loki could have made it more comfortable for Thor if he had wished.

"What is it you wished to talk to me about that could not be discussed over dinner, Thor?"

Thor could see Loki's exhaustion even through the mask of absolute calm he wore.

"I do not mean to add to your burden, Loki. I wanted to let you know, to remind you, that you have friends in Asgard to help you if you need it on the difficult roads ahead."

Loki looked at him, expressionlessly, silently.

Thor continued, unabashed. "Asgard has connections throughout the realms, formal and informal. Do not hesitate to ask for advice or assistance as Jotunheim's relationships with the other realms expand, and deepen. It may be that some will underestimate or undervalue what Jotunheim can offer. I have always valued your advice in diplomatic matters, and now that you may be in need of the same from me, I would offer it to you in friendship. Our knowledge and resources are at your disposal. Asgard has eyes and ears everywhere."

Loki paused for a moment. "Except Jotunheim," he said, sitting back, and drawing up his foot to his opposite knee.

Thor blinked. That was true. "...except Jotunheim," he echoed, suddenly uncertain. Asgard had not known that Laufey was dead until the official announcement came in the middle of the night, hours after the fact. 

Had the monarch of any other realm passed, Thor would have known within minutes from their network of spies. Thor thought Odin's ravens might visit Jotunheim occasionally, perhaps in the same manner that Loki walked the skies, and Heimdall saw almost all, but the truth was, Asgard had turned its back on Jotunheim for a long, long time. Except for a recent exchange of ambassadors, Thor had no direct line to events in Jotunheim, beyond Loki. And now he and Loki were no longer...close.

Loki said nothing more, so Thor stood, walking closer to the edge of the balcony to see the city below in the muted evening sunlight of Jotunheim. He had turned his back to Loki, which even a king should not do to a fellow king, but he did not want Loki to see the uncertainty on his face.

Utgard, Loki's capital, looked to be on the edge of prosperity, finally. The return of the Casket of Winters, and the wise stewardship of Laufey, once his lust for revenge was quieted, was already paying dividends despite the relatively short time since the end of the war. It looked strange, alien, to him. And it was.

Thor turned back to Loki, the king of this alien place. Loki had the same blank, calm expression on his face as before, his body language blaisé and unfussed, foot still on his knee,

"Have I offended you by asking for a private conversation, Loki?"

Loki remained seated, unperturbed.

"We would have had a private conversation anyway, Thor. I am having private conversations with as many of the leading citizens of the Nine as can fit in these three days. But you, as first among equals, of course may request such a meeting in advance and at a time more convenient to you than to me. You may demand whatever you will from me, and it is in Jotunheim's interest that I grant to the king of Asgard whatever it may be he asks of me, of us.”

Thor froze at the cold pragmatism that dripped from Loki’s words. It was all true of course, but was a cynical reading of Asgard’s relationships with the rest of the Nine.

Loki continued, ignoring Thor’s incredulous look. 

“That is simply the way it is, Thor-king, and I take no offence at it. As for your offer, I thank you on behalf of my realm. I personally would rather not allow Asgard to extend its reach to Jotunheim, as that is of course the inevitable if unspoken _quid pro quo_ of such assistance you have offered ‘from one realm to another’, but I will discuss it with my counsellors. If they will feel that Jotunheim has recovered itself enough from war and destitution to be able to safely accept assistance from Asgard, I will be guided by them in this."

Thor gaped. He could feel his jaw drop almost to the floor. _He twists my words, slanders my intentions. Why does he twist my words so? I do not threaten, or force his arm._

Before he could respond, Loki stood and spoke again. "If we have concluded our business then, Thor-king, I will request your indulgence and call this meeting to a close. The morning was spent greeting arrivals from throughout the realms, and this afternoon I oversaw the completion of the embalming process for Laufey. As his heir, it is my responsibility to see it is done well so he may rest well. Despite a bath before I came here, I feel that I still stink of death and decay and would like to bathe again before dinner. Will you excuse me?"

Thor could hardly refuse. He recovered himself somewhat, and nodded tersely, unable to form words, sure his shock was clear on his face. He thought he saw a shadow of sadness on Loki's face as he turned and swept out of the room, but was too stunned to properly interpret it. He almost stumbled into the chair he had taken opposite Loki and sat for a few moments, staring at the floor.

Loki had slapped him in the face, hard.

He gathered his wits and stepped out of the room to find Asvid waiting to escort him to the rooms he shared with Sif and Hogun. It was just as well, Thor did not think he would find his way back left to his own devices, reeling as he was from Loki's hostility.

Hogun looked concerned as Thor closed the door behind him and sank onto a chair. Sif said, "You were barely gone fifteen minutes. What happened?"

Thor was trying to understand exactly that.

"Loki," he said slowly, "treated my attempt to offer him the aid of Asgard not as a personal favour between friends, but as a power play between a patron and a future client that could not refuse them."

Sif cocked an eyebrow.

"Sif, he behaved as if I was leveraging my position as Protector of the Nine to force Asgardian influence on Jotunheim."

Hogun, ever the pragmatic general, said, "That would be advisable, given the circumstances."

Thor spread his hands helplessly. "Surely I do not need to do so? Is he so sickened by me that we cannot even discuss the future of our realms together?"

Sif said, musingly, "That was cruel of him. You have allowed Jotunheim to rebuild itself without Asgardian oversight out of respect for Loki's wishes. He knows you better than to assume you would use your influence throughout the Nine as a bludgeon."

"I am not my father," muttered Thor.

"Loki knows that. But he is angry with you and he is in mourning, Thor, and a great responsibility has dropped on his shoulders. _Let him be for now_."

Sif was making sense. But Loki had sought to lose himself in Thor's arms upon the loss of his father, just two nights past. Surely that meant that something remained between them. Thor just had to nurture it.

Dinner was a dull affair. There was a series of poetic and sung tributes to Laufey as the guests ate, though the stories of his deeds skirted the more shortsighted and warmongering aspects of his character and reign. Thor watched Loki move from table to table, thanking guests from across the Nine Realms for their attendance and sympathies, until Sif kicked Thor's ankle and he realised he had stopped responding to the Jotunn noble who had joined the Asgardian table.

The event was supposedly a celebration of Laufey's life, but everyone attending was really there to witness the welcoming Jotunheim back into the fold of the Nine Realms. Loki was at the centre of it all, and Thor at its head. People of influence swirled around Loki as he moved around the room, renewing connections, reforging links, reviving relationships. After speaking to Loki, they came to pay their respects to Thor, who stayed seated throughout as befitted the dignity of his station.

They asked of Thor delicately phrased questions about the new Jotunn king. Thor found himself answering the same questions again and again as diplomatically as he could. It boiled down to yes, Loptr was a true son of Laufey. No, Loptr was not a puppet of Asgard, but an independent king. Yes, Thor had full confidence in Loptr as the new king of Jotunheim. 

Eventually, guests began to bow out politely as the evening turned into night, until only Thor and his companions remained. Loki inclined his head to Thor and his companions, an acknowledgement fitting for the Protector of the Nine from a king in his own realm, and said, "Good night, your majesty, my lady, my lord. Asvid will escort you again."

He bowed slightly and left before Thor could respond. Thor sighed. So formal, so deliberately distant. Perhaps Loki would come to him tonight. He was not counting on it, but he could hope.

Thor lay awake for some time, considering. Tomorrow would involve the rites the Jotunn used to send their dead onto their next journey. There would be a more lively feast that evening, and on the third day, visitors would return home. It could be the last time he and Loki would see each other for some time. Loki would be swallowed by the complications of securing his rule and by the mundane duties of kingship too for months at least. Worse, he had given no indication to Thor that he wanted to see Thor again.

But he had come to Thor, to Thor's bed, for comfort when his father had just died. Surely that meant something.

Just as the dull light of a Jotunn dawn began to creep into his room, Thor began to drift off, only to be woken by a shift in the air around him. He opened his eyes to see Loki standing just out of reach.

Thor felt a momentary thrill of fear as it occurred to him that he was at Loki's mercies, here in Loki's own palace. That was hardly true, of course, as Thor was still Thor no matter where he might be. But if Loki wished him harm for any reason, Thor would be at a disadvantage.

He mentally shook himself, and sat up. Loki was not here to harm him. If it was so, he would never have seen Loki coming.

Loki stepped closer. Although he did not divest himself of the splendidly cut leathers befitting the new king, Thor could almost see him shrug off a weight on his shoulders as he sat on the edge of Thor's bed.

"Thor. I did not expect you to be awake."

Thor cocked an eyebrow. "Then why did you come?"

Loki looked inwards for a moment. "I...wanted to see you."

Thor wondered if Loki would simply have had the fill of his eyes, as odd and lonely as that seemed, and then left for his own rooms had Thor been asleep as expected. Or would he have slipped into the bed and slept the rest of the morning with Thor?

Looking at Loki carefully, sensible of the weight of grief and duty that he had just seen Loki put aside, Thor asked, "Will you stay?"

Loki waited for a moment before replying, not quite meeting Thor's eyes, "If you wish me to."

Thor drew Loki closer to him and kissed him.

"There will never be a circumstance where I would turn you away, Loki."

Loki met his eyes then, shook his head as if denying something, sadness flickering on his face, and he kissed Thor in turn.

Thor drew Loki closer and gently rolled him over so Thor was on top. He was about to start to remove Loki's clothing when they vanished with a perfunctory gesture from Loki. Thor was a little surprised and disappointed at Loki's haste, but he supposed they had both missed too much sleep already to justify a slow seduction. Loki pulled at the cotton cord that held Thor's sleep pants to his hips, and slid them down, opening his own legs beneath Thor's as he did so.

Without further to-do, Loki reached between them and gently took Thor's cock in hand, Thor moving slightly to accommodate him. Loki stroked along Thor’s leg with his foot before hooking his leg over Thor’s hip, opening him to Thor. 

Loki skillfully brought him to full attention with a tight fist around his cock and a hot tongue invading his mouth. It did not take much time for those long, artistic fingers to pump and stroke Thor's cock to neediness, and Thor's kisses with Loki quickly became gasps and moan.

Those gasps were beginning to turn pleading when Loki bent his knees so his feet were flat on the bed and lifted his pelvis up to better align with Thor's cock. Thor felt the soft wet hot entrance of Loki's quim stroke his cockhead as Loki circled his hips a little, holding Thor's cock in place with one hand, his other arm around Thor's left shoulder. He looked Thor in the eyes as he guided Thor into him, just allowing the head of Thor's cock inside. Loki was wet and welcoming, and Thor sank into the feeling as he sank into Loki's body.

He took a moment to look down between them where they were joined. His view was slightly obscured by Loki's own cock, but he was almost fully inside Loki now, so he gently withdrew a little, placed his hands on Loki's hips, and gently pushed in again so he was flush inside Loki. Loki had left his arms drop so his hands were palm-up beside his head on Thor's pillow, giving himself up to Thor’s careful attentions. He looked languid and lazy, but underneath that, Thor sensed an urgency, a franticness that he could not quite understand.

He bent down to kiss Loki, one hand grasping Loki's, interlacing their fingers.

"Loki...what are you playing at?"

Loki's mood had shifted in the moments between sitting at Thor's side, and being drawn into the bed. He smiled up at Thor, lazy, beatific, utterly beautiful, and purely deceptive.

"No games, Thunderer. I am going to break your heart, and that I take very seriously."

Thor stopped his gentle thrusting. “What? What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Thor. Indulge me. I will take from you what I need, and you will give it. I will allow you to bed me one last time. If you do not wish to do so, then I will leave."

Thor stared at Loki, thoroughly trapped. He did not wish for Loki to leave, he did not wish to have his heart broken any further than it had been, he did not understand Loki’s twisty, tortured intentions. He could not comprehend how Loki could be so physically welcoming of Thor, now with his legs wrapped around Thor’s waist to keep him within Loki’s body, and how still his words could speak such disdain and distance. 

Loki disentangled his fingers from Thor’s and wrapped his arms around Thor’s shoulders in a near embrace. “Be calm, Thunderer. Do not fret. Do not allow yourself to be distracted by my ramblings. I am in mourning, after all, and need comforting. So, comfort me. Be sweet, and strong, and tender, if you will. Fill my emptiness. Give me what I need. One last time. Will you?”

Thor was utterly at sea, and let his head drop onto Loki’s shoulder with a defeated sigh. 

“You will be the death of me, Loki.” He cringed internally as he realised how crass and unfeeling saying such a thing was the night before the funeral of Loki’s father.

Loki did not appear to notice. “Oh no, Thunderer. You will not get off that easily.”

Thor raised his head, looked into the unfathomable depths of Loki’s eyes, which looked as if tears were about to form, and kissed him. Loki responded with fervour as Thor readjusted his position to begin thrusting anew. 

Thor was sure he had just fallen into a trap, and feared it was entirely of his own making. 


	20. Cold Dawn

Almost as soon as they had found their pleasure in each other, almost before Thor's seed slipped from Loki's quim and down his thigh, Loki moved to leave. Thor caught him gently by the wrist. "Will you not stay? Breakfast is in but a few hours. Stay, Loki, say you are to stay."

Loki looked at the dull Jotunn sunshine that was beginning to stream through the long window. "Even if I wished to, I could not. The priests who sat with Laufey's corpse this night will be waiting for me now. I must join them, and take the duty of guarding my father's body until this time tomorrow."

Thor let go of his wrist and tried to understand Loki's demeanour. Ice cold to Thor in their public duties, not much warmer even in the heights of passion. It was not the time to ask Loki questions, to challenge him, to try to cajole him, not yet.

"I would wish for you to speak with me again privately, Loki, before I depart again for Asgard."

Loki made an amused sound. "'Speak', is it? There is nothing to say, Thor. This is to be the last time you will bed me, I have said so already, have I not? But perhaps we will have reason enough to speak soon. I must attend to my duties."

With that, Loki abruptly vanished before Thor could splutter indignation at the insinuation that Thor merely meant to meet Loki in order to pursue physical gratification. He growled and pulled the pillow around his ears in frustration. After a few moments, he decided to bathe, more to center himself than to clean himself of Loki's spend, although that would help. He was meticulous in his preparations for joining his companions for breakfast, and responded only briefly when they enquired as to his mood.

After, they were escorted to the throne room where Thor had last seen Laufey, what seemed like a long time ago. His corpse was laid out at the foot of the dais, and despite clear signs of a wasting illness, he remained regal and imposing even in death.

Loki was standing guard in his red and blue military leathers, which Thor had not seen him wear since the end of the war. He looked very alone. He should have been accompanied by two brothers, Thor knew, the named crown prince, Byliestr, who had died at the hands of the Asgardian army, and Helblindi, who Laufey had claimed to have murdered. Despite his solitary vigil, Loki held post with equanimity, smaller in frame though he was but as formidable in demeanor as his father had been.

As first among the Nine, Thor was also first to file past the coffin, head bowed. It seemed that Laufey would lie in state until the following dawn, guarded by his son. Loki stared ahead as Thor and his companions passed by, unseeing.

And so it went. It seemed that the people of Utgard wished to see their king lie in state, though whether it was out of respect or to confirm with their own eyes that he was dead, Thor did not know. He waited anxiously for the night to come, and finally, he bade his companions good night and made as if to go to bed. He remained clothed and awake, though, waiting for dawn. When Loki's vigil would be done. And he would get some answers.

Dawn's cold blueish-white light crept through the hangings on his window. Thor took a fortifyingly deep breath, and stood. With luck, he would remember the path to Loki's apartments. Slipping out of the apartments he was sharing with Sif and Hogun. This late at night, the palace was mostly sleeping, although he was sure the kitchens, the engine of any large household, were already busy.

He found his way to Loki's apartments easily enough, and knocked. He could almost feel the puzzlement of their resident at being disturbed at such an hour, at such a _time_ , and after a moment in which Thor could feel his heartbeat in his mouth and at the tips of his fingers and toes, Loki bid him enter. He slipped in, and closed the door gently behind him.

Loki looked tired, his eyes a dull red and deep in their sockets.

"What do you want, Thor? I am too tired to speak, or whatever it is you wish to pursue here and now."

"You have forced my hand, Loki." Thor had not been sure what how to approach Loki, but in the split second after Loki again insinuated that Thor wished to merely use him, he decided that the direct approach would do. Everything about this was a poor decision, but it had to be done.

Loki, to Thor's astonishment, looked delighted.

"Have I, Thunderer? How so?"

Thor ignored him. Engaging in Loki's questions would give Loki control of the conversation, and he did not wish to be Loki's puppet any longer.

"Let us sit, Loki. I will not keep you from your sleep for long."

Thor sat on a plush chair which faced another across a table. The room was positively freezing but he would ignore the cold as long as he needed to.

Loki smirked. "You command me now in my own apartments, in my own palace, in my own realm, Thor-king?"

Thor roared before he could stop himself. "Sit DOWN, Loki!"

Loki flinched, but the dark delight on his face was brazen. Thor was obviously walking right into whatever traps, whatever nets, Loki had laid for him. Loki sat, though.

Thor tried not to take too angry a breath before he spoke. "Tomorrow, after your father's funeral, I will leave for Asgard and you will use this as an excuse to keep me distant. So tonight, Loki, since you drew me close both in asking me to witness the farewell to Laufey and by joining me in my bed, you will have to take the consequences."

Loki's smile faded, his tiredness all the more clear. "Consequences, Thor? Whatever do you mean?"

"Answers, Loki! What are you playing at? What did you mean when you said you intended to break my heart?"

"Ah, come now. I am a notorious liar."

Thor slapped the table. "Enough, Loki! You do not get to toy with my heart. I have never deliberately played you wrong. If you are angry with me, if you wish to hurt me, do so, but no games, no nets, no drawn out tortures. Do me the courtesy of confronting me face to face! Be blunt and cruel if you wish. I am here now, and will listen to what you have to say, I will do what you would have me do, take what you would wish to inflict on me. But do it directly, Loki."

Loki sighed, almost sadly. "Honesty? Directness? Those are your weapons, Thunderer."

"Weapons, Loki? So we do fight? Your coming to me in Asgard the night you lost your father, coming to me last night to simply look at my face, these were volleys in some battle I am unaware of?"

Loki blanched, and then fury painted his face. "Do not mock my weakness, Odinson! Have you no sense of decorum, no decency?"

Thor gaped at him. He recovered himself fast enough to lean forward and retort, even as a pleading note entered his tone. "It is no weakness to seek solace when you are burdened with loss, with sadness, with the expectations of a realm riding on your shoulders! Were it I who had lost a parent, do you think I would not lean on you were you willing? Do you think I did not turn to my friends, to my mother, to _you_ when I felt the responsibility of the throne weigh on me? How can you think I mock you? How can you think that seeking comfort and support is a _weakness?_ "

 _"You were not strong enough when I needed you!"_ Loki spat.

Thor reeled backwards in his seat. He sat staring at Loki, who was panting, and faintly trembling.

"So," Thor eventually got out.

"So," said Loki, in a low voice.

They sat for what seemed like a long time, looking at each other. Thor realised with great sadness that this might be the last time he would be alone with Loki. He stirred, making ready to leave, unsure how to address the pain that lay between them.

Loki finally spoke. "It is late and there is much to do tomorrow. Stay, then, if you wish to bed me. How can I refuse the King of Asgard? For now, my father lies above ground and is still king of Jotunheim, and for now, I remain only myself. I remain Loki. Tomorrow, who knows?" He rose and held out a hand to Thor, who grasped onto it with both hands before he even realised he was doing so.

He realised he did not have the words to speak to Loki in a way that Loki would hear. That Loki did not want to hear them anyway. That perhaps Loki could not hear Thor's words, not now, poisoned as he was by past fear and present bitterness. This had been a mistake.

He realised too that he was in the attitude of a petitioner performing obeisance for his king, seated still as he was, Loki standing, Thor holding Loki's proffered hand in both of his. 

It was wholly inappropriate. It was also entirely apposite. For all of the appearances on the surface that Thor led and Loki followed, that Thor dominated and Loki submitted, that Thor was king and Loki his slave, Thor knew deep in his bones that it was Loki that dictated the terms of their relationship. To believe or to behave otherwise would be like trying to control a roaring river with a paddle, in the stead of surrendering to it and guide oneself along its flow.

Thor had shaped and adapted himself to meet the sorcerer's needs in remarkable ways since they had met. He had no idea how to adapt to this. He could not understand what _this_ was. 

It was time to leave. The nets that Loki had tangled Thor in would be revealed in due course, unless Loki was simply playing a prank on him. He kissed Loki's fingers, let his hand go, and stood to go.

Loki looked exasperated. "What do you _want_ , Thor? What consequences do you wish me to accept for crawling into your bed? I will not let your appetites nor my pride trouble my realm, do you understand?"

Thor looked him straight in the eye. "You do not have to be the king of your realm to refuse me, Loki. And your realm is safe from me even if you do so. I will leave you be.”

Loki did not look the least ashamed. He looked to be about to say something completely poisonous, but was biting his tongue. No doubt he thought that escalating their war of words to the point of open battle the very morning of his father’s funeral would have repercussions for his realm, when Jotunheim was finally on the cusp of acceptance again. 

Thor stalked out, anger and confusion and disappointment and heartbreak all clamouring for indulgence in his heart and mind. He did not have the right to be angry. Loki had protected and guided him when he was slave to a madman, and had suffered for it. Thor had let Loki down at the crucial moment that they were both about the break free of the Grandmaster’s clutches, and allowed the Grandmaster to use him as a weapon to hurt Loki. He had no right to be angry. Making his way back to his apartments, he fell shivering into his bed in the dull light of dawn and slept badly, dreaming of fighting a faceless Jotunn in the Pit while Loki, deaf to his cries, walked away from him. 


	21. Tricksters

The great and the good of the Nine Realms bore witness as Laufey's corpse was entombed in the perma-ice of Utgard at noon the next day. Loki presided over the brief, simple ceremony and lit magnesium torches to burn at the crypt's four corners. He wore full royal garb now, and a gold circlet around his temples in the place of the silver one that he had once wore as prince of the realm. Thor watched, feeling somewhat detached from proceedings, as King Loptr Laufeyson performed his first act as sole monarch of Jotunheim. 

It had seemed so complicated between them, when their realms had been at war and Thor held Loki bound as a slave, and it had been, but at least then Thor had understood the rules. After the close of the burial ceremony, he shook Loki's hand and murmured words of condolences as a line of nobles and heroes gathered behind him to do the same. Loki gripped his hand for a moment too long, but his face remained expressionless.

Sif leaned in and whispered words of comfort to Loki, and for a split second his face crumpled, but he regained his impassive facade so quickly that Thor doubted anyone else noticed. Hogun greeted Loki now as a king rather than a fellow soldier, shaking his hand and bowing slightly. Thor signalled for their Jotunn footman to escort them to the Bifrost site on the roof of the palace, and they were home.

In the weeks that followed, Loki did not contact Thor. The ache in Thor's chest moved to his stomach now, and served as a constant reminder of Loki's absence. Loki's threat to break his heart was almost a comfort, an assurance that Loki had not quite pushed Thor away completely just yet. Thor waited, knowing this now poisonous connection he and Loki had did neither of them any good, but he waited.

The skies above Asgard were heavy and grey when Thor did not make the effort to allow the currents of wind and water to go their own way. His friends eyed the skies with some concern, but said nothing.

He no longer personally attended meetings with the Jotunn ambassador, and instead of sending his personal greetings to Loki-prince each time representatives of the two realms officially met, he instructed his own ambassador to convey his royal greetings to the new king when appropriate. 

The Council of Asgard grew restless and argumentative. They were wise enough to weigh the consequences of their decisions, they did not truly need him except to rubber stamp the outcome of their arguments, he told himself. Thor could just about keep a lid on their grumblings, and the occasional bad tempered eruption from him was enough to keep manners on them, for the most part. He ignored that his wisest and most knowledgeable women and men began to eye him askance. 

His training became a little less frequent, and his application and dedication to it became somewhat less intense. He was king, after all, he could not spend his efforts on mindless games, or so he told Sif.

His rest was not as deep as it had been. It was only to be expected when he did not have time to exert himself in the training grounds, or so he told Hogun. 

He spent more time on his own, supposedly perusing state papers, but in truth, drinking perhaps a touch too much ale, descending to the kitchens to graze on whatever was baking or bubbling or roasting there. At first the cooks smiled and welcomed him, the chief cook barely restraining herself from ruffling his hair as she had done when he had been a small boy come looking for sweets. Soon though, the concerned looks he received drove him to his rooms, and he began taking all his meals there alone. It was for the best, he told Volstagg, the dining halls were a distraction from the work of the king.

Eventually, Odin sent for him.

Ever since Thor had succeeded Odin, the Allfather had usually approached his son for an audience, rather than summoning him. Thor guessed from this that Odin was acting as father, and perhaps Allfather, now, instead of as the former king. Despite being past the age of majority for a respectable period of time, and despite even being king of Asgard now and technically his father's king too, he quailed a little at the thought of having displeased Odin as a son.

He was slightly relieved to find his father apparently relaxed and in a thoughtful mood as Odin consulted with his ravens about events throughout the Nine. Odin turned and smiled as Thor approached.

"Ah, Thor, my boy, come sit."

Thor greeted his father, and sat for a time. It was pleasant, sitting beside the strong, protective bulk of his father, reduced though Odin was by age and hard use. 

Eventually, Odin said, "It would seem you are neglecting yourself, my son."

Thor was nonplussed. He had been expecting Odin to comment on his neglect of his duties, certainly, but not...he was not truly neglecting himself. He had merely been a little undisciplined of late.

"Asgard fares well, Father. The people are prosperous and content, and relations with the other realms run smoothly."

Odin smiled. "I have few concerns for Asgard. I am concerned for you." He reached up, stiffly, to stroke Thor's cheek. Thor considered how he perhaps should have trimmed his beard and hair before visiting with his father. 

Odin surprised him by saying, "How goes Asgard's relations with Jotunheim?"

Thor shrugged and replied, "As well as they have for the past thousand years, I am sure."

"And her new king?"

Thor was not sure how to best speak of Loki with Odin. He had never been sure of Odin's opinion of his liaison with Laufey's trickster son.

After a few moments, he said, "Loki is as far from me as he ever has been."

Odin said no more than, "I see."

Thor remained quiet for a few moments. There was a kind of peace in sitting with Odin. If he shared his burden with his father, perhaps it would lighten the load. Or perhaps Odin would blast him with truths that Thor did not wish to hear, not yet. 

_Well. I cannot go on as I am._ The moment of clarity opened up Thor physically for a moment, and he took what felt like his first deep, cleansing breath in weeks. 

"Loki...cannot forgive me for something over which I had no control. I spoke to you of what happened on Sakaar. His view of me is, I fear, forever tainted by what I did."

Odin nodded. "By what was done to you. To both of you."

Thor sighed. "He does not see it that way."

Odin looked at Thor for a moment. "I suspect that he does, son."

Thor furrowed his brow. He never understood a tenth of what went on in Loki's mind. Was Odin suggesting that Loki understood how Thor was as much a victim of the Grandmaster as Loki had been? Loki's anger was directed at Thor, and Thor alone. Loki was refusing to recognise that Thor was a victim too, was he not? 

"Loki rages at you because you did not prevail," said Odin, quietly. "And punishes you for falling before the onslaught of a being of inconceivable power and unconscionable ruthlessness."

Thor felt the stirrings of anger. He had had little chance to resist. Almost none, especially when he had no forewarning of the dangers posed by the Grandmaster. He had tried, and tried and tried.

The despair he had barely kept at bay these long weeks began to rise in him too. "I have no right to be angry, Father. I should have tried harder."

"Oh, Thor. It is hard when our idols are found to have feet of clay, and perhaps even harder when you are the idol that has proven to be clay-footed. You are no perfect statue, though it took the immeasurable strength of an Elder, I suspect, to push you from your pedestal. Loki has a right to be angry even so, and will of course find such a flaw difficult to forgive. It is not in his nature to forgive easily. He is his father's son in this, as he is in so many things. But you, my son, you are also entitled to your anger."

Thor stood and looked at the sky. It seemed calm, but he knew behind the facade, it was churning. He got a grip on himself. 

He had let Loki down, it was true. Loki's anger was justified. _You were not strong enough when I needed you!_

But Thor too had suffered, and was allowed to be angry. With himself, to be sure, but with the Grandmaster for his cruelty, and with Loki for leaving him. 

_Despite it all, I chose him. I chose Loki over the Grandmaster. I could have killed Loki, truly, but Loki was brave and resourceful enough to fight me, resist my own onslaught, until I was able to bring myself back. Even without Mjolnir, I chose Loki._

Mjolnir had restored Thor's memories, sweeping away the Grandmaster's enchantments, but Thor had already chosen Loki thrice over before she had arrived. But Loki paid no mind to this!

Thor realised then that he had been angry for some time, but had allowed the anger to turn inwards on himself and curdle into despair and self-disgust. He took another cleansing breath and felt the clean, white burn of true anger. 

He found himself laughing as the thunder began to rumble, above. "Father, if Loki could see me now, he would think it a great trick."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. He would, indeed." Thor smiled wryly. There would be a time in his life when he would grow fat, no doubt, when the joy of food and comfort would eclipse his desire for excellence in combat and competition. There would be a time in his life when his drive to serve his people would fade, hopefully when he had a worthy heir to replace him. There would never, though, be a time again when his hair and beard would be allowed to become as tatty as they had these past weeks. That was simply unforgivably self-indulgent of him. How Loki would laugh to see him.

But it would do Loki no good to see him like this.

He had allowed Loki to take the lead for too long. It was understandable while Thor had been wrapped up in the Grandmaster's puppet strings, though perhaps still not forgiveable. He had allowed Loki to define the events that had befallen both of them. He had allowed Loki to set the terms of his punishment, had allowed Loki to manipulate him into punishing himself! Loki was still not done with him, Thor was sure. He had only barely tasted heartbreak at Loki's hands, and look at how he had already let himself suffer. Who knows how much of Loki's wrath he was going to have to endure?

But he was not going to be a victim any longer. He refused to passively accept Loki's anger any more. It did him no good, nor Loki. 

It was time to take Loki by the scruff of the neck again. Any good master knew the importance of allowing enough slack, though, so Thor needed to be careful. Too much slack and Loki would run as wild as Laufey ever had. Not enough give, and Loki would savage him, savage both of them, like a rabid dog. 

It could go very badly wrong, and Thor could lose everything. War between their realms was not beyond the possibilities. But Thor would remind Loki of the lesson that Loki himself had taught the Beast on Sakaar. Thor would no longer permit Loki to treat him with disdain. Thor would have Loki's respect, even if it was the respect of a foe, and then they could truly discuss Thor's punishment. Loki may be plotting to break Thor's heart, but Thor's heart would always be Loki's, and Thor would teach him the value of it if he had to beat it into him a hundred times and more. 

Thunder burst over the palace. Thor allowed the rain to fall on him, and was mildly amused to see that Odin had spelled a protective sphere about himself. The old man smiled at him, proud.

"There," he said, affectionately. "That is the young man that seduced Laufey's boy."

"Perhaps, Father. I must allow Loki to spring the trapa he has set for me before I bring him to heel. Who knows what I must endure before he truly remembers why he fears me, and why he loves me. I look forward to reminding him, in small ways and then in large."

"It is fun to be so young, is it not, my son?" Odin's paternal smile flashed pure trickster for a moment.

Thor grinned back. He was not clever in the right way to himself be a trickster, but he was certainly clever enough to outwit one.


	22. A Port In A Storm

Each morning, Thor had awakened resisting the urge to grab Mjolnir and fly to Heimdall, had tried not to be blinded by the satisfying vision of himself slamming down on the roof of the palace of Utgard and demanding an audience with Loki. 

Each evening, he had gone to bed keeping at bay the desire to summon Loki immediately to Asgard and insist on him staying the night, leveraging his position as the first among the rulers of the Nine, _forcing_ Loki to see him.

The only thing that had stopped him from giving into his yearning was the knowledge that such actions would have enraged Loki and driven him further away, further into himself, further from Thor.

But after his conversation with Odin, after his realisation that the guilt was not truly his to bear, that Loki’s anger was not entirely Thor's to suffer, no more did Thor fear these things. Let Loki be angry! Let Loki rage at him! Thor would show Loki the measure of Thor, king of Asgard, god of Thunder, and master of Loki Laufeyson! Thor would not allow Loki to hide from him, to withdraw, to disappear further within himself!

Lighter of heart, Thor threw himself back into his usual routine. His companions were relieved, and the Council only a little less so.

Enough. Three months was enough. He had given Loki enough time to get his house in order. And Thor had decided it was time to take the lead, had he not?

Fully one week after his decision to take Loki by the scruff as necessary, somewhat restored to his own self, Thor sent a message to Jotunheim to expect him at the Bifrost landing on the roof of the palace of Utgard. 

Time to face Loki’s fury again, then. Thor had faced it before, faced a Loki who had come near to destroying him and the army of Asgard. Loki had stayed his vengefulness then, softened his cruel hand, out of love for Thor. It was not a thing to be taken lightly, the rage of his love, his mercurial, formidable love. 

But then, neither were the attentions and passions of the god of thunder. 

  
  
  
  
  


Thor felt and saw Jotunheim solidify around him as Heimdall closed the Bifrost, the freezing winds carrying the promise of a Jotnar storm to come, and there stood Loki, alone. Finally, in the flesh, it was Loki.

Or perhaps, Thor realised as he took in the sight of his love, it was instead King Loptr who stood before him. Loki looked to have assumed the mantle of a warrior king in the style of Laufey, and of Laufey’s father, and Jotunn royal warriors since the foundation of the realm. 

He was near nude except for leather epaulettes, vambraces, and a brief kilt. Leaning on a ceremonial spear, where before he had eschewed carrying visible weapons outside of the sparring ring, Loki‘s face was impassive. The simple gold circlet he had worn around his head as the sometime prince of his realm had been replaced by golden horns. His hair had grown longer and was decorated in gold baubles, its plaits threaded with filigree.

Thor knew his expression must surely reflect the awe he felt. This was the first time Loki had appeared truly alien to him. Not a stranger, no; the brow, now marked with the lines of a king, the mouth, so often quirked in a half smile, the aristocratic nose and high cheekbones, all familiar to him, though altered by the idiosyncrasies of race. It was not his physical appearance which made him alien to Thor.

His demeanour, though...Loki’s stance, a predator at rest, reminded Thor much of Laufey, and though Loki was smaller in scale, he projected the same gravitas and menace. None who looked upon him could mistake him for any other than Laufey’s true heir. 

He looked beautiful, and barely real. Were it not for his dark hair whipping in the rising winds, Thor could have taken him for a statue of his love.

Unlike Thor, who had yet to fully regain his warrior form, Loki looked slim and toned, his shoulders broader and carrying more muscle than he did in Aes form, his narrow waist taut and flat. Thor could not see evidence of any illusion, though he supposed it would not be necessary quite yet if his suspicions were true.

“Greetings, King Thor. You are well come in Jotunheim.”

Thor gave him a slightly mocking bow, amused by his deliberate formalilty. “Thank you, Loki-king,” he said, and nothing more. He just stood there, getting the full of his eyes, drinking in the vision of magnificence that was the current face of his love. 

After a few moments, Loki spoke in a tightly controlled voice. “Why are you here, Thunderer?” He gestured sarcastically. ”Should I kneel to the king of Asgard and Protector of the Nine?”

Ha. So Loki was trying to shame him into pleading their equality. He and Loki were equals in their relationship, even if their roles were different, but the king of Asgard and the king of Jotunheim were certainly _not_ equals, except perhaps nominally. If Loki wished to play at formality, he would have to accept the consequences of it. Thor replied easily, “As it pleases you, your majesty, king of Jotunheim. I know it would please _me_.”

He kept a neutral expression on his face as Loki visibly fought down a snarl and snapped, “What do you _want,_ Thor? I do not have the time or interest to indulge you.”

Thor had expected no less, but he felt sad for it, all the same. “I want _you_ , Loki, what else? Also, I am curious as to how Jotunheim has fared since she regained the Casket, and now since you have taken the throne. You might not wish to indulge me in the first, but it would be to the advantage of your people to indulge me in the other.”

Without waiting for a scathing response, Thor took Mjolnir from his belt and spun her, following her into the skies and veering south. Loki would know where he was going, and Thor was banking on Loki following him. 

Loki did as Thor had hoped, and arrived just as Thor touched down on the edge of a volcanic mountain overlooking Utgard that was most familiar to both of them. Thor was pleased, and smiling, said, “So, it seems that even still, if I lead, you will follow.” Again, he did not allow Loki a chance to spit venomous words at him, but turned to face Utgard to bask in the glow of her slowly returning glory. 

  
  


Loki stood on the roof of the palace of Utgard, the flash and thunder of the Bifrost withdrawing to reveal the figure of the King of Asgard before him. It was true then, as his ambassador had reported. Thor carried the evidence of some time spent in sorrow and self-indulgence, though Loki could not say that it did not suit him. His new softness did not disguise the weight of hard muscle that lay under it; he still held himself like a warrior; his hair long again and, with his beard, somewhat tamed with fat plaits and tiny braids. Thor looked...well.

Irritated by his conflicting feelings at the sight of this, Loki nevertheless stood stock still, channelling all the dignity of generations of Jotunn monarchs. He was expecting, _wanting_ Thor to be surprised, perhaps even a little intimidated, by Loki’s embrace of the theatre of Jotunn monarchy. He watched as Thor took in the sight of him in turn, clearly impressed, openly admiring him. Loki did love -used to love- the look of appreciation on Thor’s face when Loki decided to peacock. 

(He loved it more when apropos of nothing, Thor would light up with admiration at the sight of Loki when Loki smiled, or said something clever or funny, or when Loki glanced at Thor to find himself the centre of Thor’s awe for no reason other than he was Loki...)

Internally, Loki shook himself. He would not allow himself to be overwhelmed by the presence of the Thunderer, neither as king nor as his former love. 

In a tone that was serious, formal, the king of Jotunheim greeted his guest. 

“Greetings, King Thor. You are well come in Jotunheim.”

Thor gave him a slightly mocking bow. “Thank you, Loki-king,” he said, and nothing more. He just stood there, gazing at Loki, still openly intrigued by Loki’s appearance.

Loki allowed silence to pulse for a few moments. He had not expected Thor to behave as if Loki were a visual buffet presented for his enjoyment, so he already felt on the back foot, as if Thor had tricked him into giving something he had not intended to offer. No matter. He would snatch back control of their encounter by reminding Thor of their former intimacy. The tools of sadness and shame were as sharp as any other if used well.

“Why are you here, Thunderer?” Loki made a sarcastically enquiring gesture. ”Should I kneel to the king of Asgard and Protector of the Nine?”

To his surprise, Thor seemed amused by this. “As it pleases you, your majesty, king of Jotunheim,” he replied, accompanying his formal tone with a small inclination of his head as appropriate, meeting Loki’s eyes the while. “I know it would please _me_.”

Loki fought down a snarl. Arrogant, irritating oaf! Without thinking, he snapped, “What do you _want_ , Thor? I do not have the time or interest to indulge you.”

A shadow of sadness crossed Thor’s face at that, but took a deep breath, and smiled. It was a kind smile, full of affection, and Loki wanted to scratch at it.

“I want you, Loki, what else? Also, I am curious as to how Jotunheim has fared since she regained the Casket, and now since you have taken the throne. You might not wish to indulge me in the first, but it would be to the advantage of your people to indulge me in the other.”

With that, Thor took Mjolnir from beneath his thick furs and spun her, following her into the skies and veering south. Loki snarled at this. He knew without thinking of it where Thor’s destination lay. Skywalking, he teleported himself to a nearby volcanic mountain, one where he and Thor had spent a night together when they were enemies and almost-lovers, the night before the Asgardian army had marched on Utgard. 

He arrived just as Thor touched down. Thor smiled at him proudly as he hung Mjolnir back on his belt, and said, “So, it seems that even still, if I lead, you will follow.” 

He turned away from Loki before Loki could retort -and what could Loki have said?- and stood there looking at Utgard. The capital’s skyline seemed to serve as a mere backdrop to Thor’s presence, which loomed large to Loki even when Thor’s attention was elsewhere.

Loki realised that he was wilting slightly from not being the focus of Thor’s attention and shook himself again, physically this time. He had to centre himself, be in control, not allow Thor to distract him and not allow Thor to engage him on Thor’s own terms. 

Thor gazed at distant Utgard while Loki refocused himself. Any time he and Thor had been in Jotunheim together, Loki had for the most part been the one to dictate their interactions, even magically shackled and a slave. How could it be that now though he was king of this realm, Thor had wrested control between them here?

Loki frowned. It seemed he was better at seducing the Thunderer and making him dance to a tune of Loki’s choosing than he was at driving Thor away. Thor was right; he was leading the way and Loki was giving into his instincts and following. Well, disaster lay in that, as Loki had learned from recent experience. He had to take control back and ensure that the Thunderer knew his place. And that was at a realms-length from Loki, until Loki decided otherwise.

He would lay down the boundary between them now, to be torn down only when it suited himself. A visit from Thor had been long expected by him, he had had plenty of time to prepare to counter the Thunderer’s demands, requests, and begging, if it came to it. _I will give you nothing, Thunderer._

Loki looked beyond Thor for a moment, where he stood framed by the bright skyline of Jotunheim’s capital, and gasped when he realised what he was looking at. 

He was glad that Thor had his back to him as he caught himself gaping in wonder at the distant sight of Utgard. He had not realised...the city skyline was aglow against the darkness of the dull Jotunn sky, far brighter and more defined than Loki had ever seen it in his lifetime. 

“Prosperity suits your capital, Loki,” murmured Thor from beside him. Loki had not realised he had stepped up so he stood side by side with Thor. “Truly the Casket of Winters has helped restore her to splendour.”

Loki did not look Thor in the eye. He had not yet taken the time, or even thought to take the time, to see Utgard so. “Laufey’s doing,” he muttered. “Laufey brought the Casket back, and set about its use.”

“True enough,” said Thor, and was silent.

Loki looked at the stars above the city, and thought about his father’s stories of how in the days before Asgard stole the Casket, the glow of Utgard in the night drowned out all light of the sky, bar the moons. _Some day soon, again,_ he thought. _So it pleases the Norns._

  
  
  
  
  


Thor surreptitiously looked at Loki’s face, enjoying the unguarded, entranced expression as his love beheld the evidence of the rebirth of the once dying city, the place of his birth, once his father’s capital and now his own. To Thor’s surprise, Loki suddenly blinked and glanced away, turning and hiding his face from Thor. He placed his ceremonial spear deliberately in the dust and said, as if to the air, “So Utgard prospers, and it pleases you. If that is what you came to investigate, then you have satisfied your curiousity, have you not?”

Thor did not respond. There was no heat in Loki’s statement, it was as if he was speaking on rote, almost automatically, allowing his mouth to form the expected words while his mind was elsewhere. 

Thor gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and when this was not shaken off, he moved in front of Loki to look at his face and saw that Loki was not focussed on the here and now, but looking beyond, unseeing. 

It was unnerving. Loki brought his full focus to everything, an intensity that Thor only matched in battle, or more rarely, in heated discussion. Instead, Loki seemed to be in an almost dissociated state, which Thor had seen once before. A long time ago, when Loki had felt pulled apart by his loyalty to his father and his burgeoning, reluctant passion for Thor.

“Loki.” Thor cupped Loki’s neck, a more intimate gesture, and Loki appeared to come to, staring at Thor wonderingly for a moment. He allowed a smirk to spread on his face. It was not reflected in his eyes.

He still did not move to evade Thor’s touch however, so Thor took the opportunity to stroke his thumb gently along Loki’s jaw. Loki spoke, as if chatting about the weather, or the price of cabbages. “Laufey laid the foundations, Thunderer. He used the Casket of Winters to begin the rejuvenation of his realm.”

Thor nodded. He did not like how Loki was speaking, almost repeating himself. Something about it seemed off. He felt his silence would be the best response until he could understand where Loki’s frame of mind lay.

Loki almost did not seem to notice that Thor had laid his hand on him, so Thor continued to gently stroke along his face, and stayed silent. 

After a few long moment, a strange tension having taken hold of him, Loki spoke again, finally looking Thor in the eye. 

“I killed him, in the end.”

Thor ceased his caresses, shocked, but did not end the embrace. He and Loki were looking directly at each other, and he saw that Loki did not lie. Thor shook his head slightly in denial, all the same.

Loki smiled, a bitter, ugly, almost triumphant smile. Thor, horror blooming in him, wanted to slap it from his face. He moved his hand from its gentle hold on Loki’s neck to grasp his face in both hands.

“Why, Loki? He was dying, was he not? You did it to end his misery, surely! A mercy killing, like Byliestr. Tell me that this is so. That this is how it was.”

Loki’s smile was no more kind, hearing those words. “I’m a patricide, Thor, as well as a fratricide, now, and a regicide, of course. Perhaps this time the Norns will come for me, unnatural thing that I have become, in their aspect of the Furies.”

Thor took him by the shoulders and shook him. “No! What are you saying? Why did you kill Laufey, Loki? The why of it matters! Tell me, why?”

Loki just grinned at him, infuriating, his eyes bright, a tinge of madness in them.

Thor tried to absorb the import of what Loki had said. His hands slid down Loki’s arms, to grasp Loki’s. To his surprise, Loki held on to his hands tightly, and Thor could feel the sharp black nails press into his flesh. 

Alone. He has shouldered this burden alone. Suddenly, Loki looked very much like his father, in Thor’s eyes. The loneliness, the bitterness, the edge of unpredictable madness that could sound like reason, if one was susceptible to the charisma of a true-born king.

Thor closed his eyes and leaned in to rest his forehead on Loki’s. His sorcerer started to tremble. Knowing that any gesture by Thor could leave him with Loki’s blades deep in his back, Thor nevertheless folded Loki into a proper embrace, holding the sorcerer closer than was wise in this wild mood of his.

He felt Loki’s arms circle him, and his hands gripped Thor’s shoulders tightly, tight enough for his nails to gouge. He was not embracing Thor; he was hanging on, Thor bearing almost all of his weight. 

Thor was not sure how long they stood like that, on the edge of volcano, the unforgiving winds of Jotunheim whipping around them, Utgard in the distance calling Loki back to his duty. Eventually, Loki shuddered, and Thor felt him heave a gasping breath as if to suppress a sob, and he leaned back from Thor’s embrace. 

Thor loosed his hold but captured Loki’s hands with his again. Anger laced his sympathy, his sorrow for Loki. Why had Loki believed he had to endure this alone?

 _You know why,_ an ugly voice whispered to him, sounding much like the Grandmaster. 

Loki stood immobile, staring at nothing, exhausted as if he had run like a racehorse. Thor gently gathered him again into a full body embrace, and Loki did not resist.

Thor was not naive of Loki enough to believe that this meant Loki was any more willing to trust him or to be truly open with him. As he felt Loki’s body quiver against his, he understood that Loki had needed to confess the horror of his crime to someone, anyone, but he had none in Jotunheim that he could trust with such knowledge. At least he knew Thor would not use this as leverage, as a tool to plot his overthrow. 

Nothing had changed between them, really. Bitterness and rancour still kept them far apart, but for the moment, Thor took some comfort from being allowed to offer Loki a pillar to lean on when his burden had become too much to bear.


	23. Games Kings Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has abandoned Thor for Jotunheim after being terrorised by a coerced Thor on Sakaar. Thor descended into a spiral of self-loathing for some months after, but realised he needed to speak to Loki, for good or for ill, about how they both handled the incident and its aftermath.
> 
> On Jotunheim, a reluctant Loki has confessed to Thor a dark secret; he is responsible for Laufey's death. Thor realises that sadly, Loki may not be as open with him about intimate matters between them but has no intention of allowing Loki to manipulate him with truth, lies, or regrets. 
> 
> Loki would settle for the cruel enjoyment of seeing Thor beg for Loki's forgiveness, but really he just wants Thor to go away. If he tells himself this often enough, he may begin to believe it. And thanks to his own rashness, he may need to ask for Thor's help quite soon.

Loki felt a fluttering in his lower belly, as if...something...was reacting to his distress, and to the comfort offered by Thor. He ignored it, it was no doubt his imagination as it had been these past several days, he told himself, and allowed Thor to hold him as he tried to regain control of himself

It took him longer than he would have liked, but when he finally did, he did so with a taunt that he knew would provoke the Thunderer.

"There, Thor, now you know another of my dark secrets. Which shall I offer you next? I have a secret that belongs to you as well as to me. I think I will keep it for myself for some time yet, though." The fluttering feeling surged again. Loki ignored her. It.

Thor growled his name, and Loki was not entirely surprised to find himself suddenly backing up from Mjolnir until his back thudded against the rough ridge of the mountainside. Thor stood glaring at him along the line of his arm and the hammer's handle, all trace of confusion and compassion gone from his handsome features. Loki slowly placed his hands on either side of the hammer's head, feeling the as-yet-unleashed power thrumming within her. She was immovable to him, of course, perhaps even as immovable as her wielder, who held her a feather's thickness away from Loki's chest with a strong, steady hand. Loki's heart pounded as flashes of recent half-forgotten nightmares briefly took form around the starhammer that had him cornered, though not quite trapped.

When Thor spoke, it was with a quiet intensity that Loki had not expected.  
  
"Do I have any choice other than to play your games, Loki? If I had, I would ignore your words and your wickedness and simply bed you."

Suddenly, Mjolnir was back on her perch on Thor's belt, but Loki found himself now caged by Thor's arms on either side of his head, Thor leaning in closer to him. Loki angrily fought down an urge to bridge the gap between them, to kiss, to bite the mouth that was only inches from his own, his instincts rising up and driving Loki to unite with his...

Loki hissed, and placed his hands on Thor's shoulders to push him away, to push away his own treacherous thoughts. Thor, though, grabbed his upper arms and pinned his elbows above his head. Rough crystal-studded rock scraped Loki's forearms and back as Thor then shoved a knee between Loki's thighs, effectively pinning him now to the mountainside. Loki could feel the size of Thor's interest in his predicament hard and hot against his hip, and gasped into the kiss that was suddenly pressed to his mouth. A dexterous tongue invaded, and though the thought of biting down on it crossed his mind, Loki's body had different ideas, driven by Thor's insistent kisses and the canting of his hips and cock against Loki.

Loki gasped again as the urge to submit to Thor's demanding kisses rose and he felt himself press forward into the heat of Thor's body. _No._ Another instinct, just as deep and much much sharper, told Loki that disaster lay that way, and a memory of Thor's face twisted in anger and disdain and disgust flashed in his head. He pulled his mouth away from Thor's, panting. Undeterred, Thor kissed and sucked and bit his way down Loki's face and neck. " _Stop,_ " Loki said hoarsely. "Now, Thor, stop. Let me free."

Thor glowered at him and eased his pressure on Loki's arms, but not completely loosening his hold. He did not entirely remove his weight from Loki's body either, still pressing him against the mountainside, but less forcefully now. Loki gathered himself to lace into Thor again, to drive him away properly with cruelty and spite, but before he could even begin to form the words in his head, a large hand covered his mouth.

"No, Loki. I will not listen to your poison this time. We are returning to your rooms. I came here for you and I am not leaving without having you."

Loki spluttered against the hand that held him silent, and then yelped as it moved instead to take him around the waist. Thor swung Mjolnir into the sky. It was far from the first time Loki had been manhandled by Thor, but the first time he had been manhandled into the sky. Despite knowing he could find safe passage to the spaces between the branches of Yggdrasil should he deliberately or otherwise loose from Thor's grip, he nevertheless found himself thrilled by the journey back to the palace, awe and terror vying for dominance, all question of challenging Thor on his actions flying from his head.

They landed on the palace roof moments later, and Loki broke Thor's grip from around his waist. They stood facing each other for a few moments, Loki unsure how to handle Thor's forcefulness. He could not distract Thor with harsh words, it would seem. Nor did he wish to attack and start a brawl that could escalate into far more, given Thor's strange mood. Falling back on his old tool for controlling Thor, seduction, would in this instance be giving in to Thor, which he also did not wish to do, or so he told himself. He had to stop himself from stepping closer to Thor, resist being drawn to Thor's energy, his presence, his physicality. _I have slept alone too long,_ thought Loki. _That is all._ The fluttering was stronger now, this past half hour. Loki did not want to spend any time thinking about the why of that. _  
_

Thor cupped Loki's neck gently, that quiet intensity still writ large across his face, his body. "Your rooms, Loki," he said in a low voice. Loki grimaced. Thor was not giving him a choice, it seemed. Well, he could use that too. Grabbing Thor's arm to be sure he did not lose him even in the quick move between the roof and Loki's rooms, he pulled Thor through space with him, teleporting them both to Loki's bedroom.

Disappointingly, Thor did not seem put off by the wrench and suddenness of the experience. He frowned as he looked around Loki's room. "You did not move to the royal chambers?"

Loki swallowed. After a moment, he said, "Laufey died there. I do not..."

Thor drew him close almost gently, his grip yet painful on Loki's arms and shoulders, and kissed him. "Do not think I have forgotten your confession, Loki. I will get to the bottom of your reasons if I have to shake it out of you. You did not disagree with me when I asked if it was a mercy killing, so I am going to assume there was more to it than that. Later, though. For now, it is just you and I, alone, the two of us." He withdrew a little to look Loki in the eye. "Is that so, Loki? Just the two of us?". He cupped Loki's neck, his thumb gently stroking just beneath Loki's ear.

Loki felt fluttering movements again. It took all that he had not to touch his still-flat belly and to maintain a steadfastly neutral expression on his face as Thor's eyes searched it for clues. He had wondered if Thor had suspected his intention when he had gone to Thor's bed the night that Laufey's funeral rites had begun. Certainly, Loki's memory of it was that he had been too crazed with grief and loss and terror of the future to have been subtle about his purpose. He put on his most infuriating smirk so quickly that Thor had to know it was designed to provoke him, and said, "I see no-one else here, Thunderer, do you?"

He quailed slightly at Thor's frown, and then snarled openly. He had been on the back foot from the moment Thor had arrived, and no more would he accept it! He had not expected this, not planned for this attitude of Thor's. He had expected Thor to come for him eventually, of course, but a more chastened Thor, perhaps even a penitent one. He had not thought to have to counter an arrogant Thor, a taking Thor, a matter-of-fact Thor. A masterful Thor. Loki ruthlessly overrode his urge to acquiesce, to please his prince, his once-king, and spat, "Accept my answer or do not, Thunderer, for I will not give you another!"

Thor continued to examined him for a few moments, and said calmly, "You gave me no answer at all, Loki, just another question. Keep your secrets, then, even if this one is also mine."

Loki was finding his inability to truly needle Thor unsettling. He had expected to have Thor horrified by him by now, or furious, but it was becoming clear he was not going to be able to drive Thor away with vicious lies, when even more vicious truths did nothing to repel him. In the middle of this realisation, it became clear that Thor had tired of the war of words that Loki was attempting to start between them, and Loki found himself picked up and thrown over Thor's shoulder. Thor bore them both to the bed, Loki making an 'oof' sound as he landed on his back. "You oaf! Get off of me! You think I am yet at your beck and call to satisfy your appetites?"

Thor ignored him as he sucked a bruise into Loki's neck, his weight pinning Loki to the bed. He knelt up between Loki's thighs and shrugged off his furs. Loki took advantage of his distraction to make the gesture to summon a blade, but his hand was caught by Thor's, causing him to hiss at the ache from the rough grip. "None of that, now, sorcerer." 

With his other hand, Thor removed Loki's crown of horns and flung it aside. Loki was about to angrily protest the treatment of the symbol of his reign but instead yelped when Thor twisted his wrist and forced him over on his belly. Loki was _furious_. He growled as he wriggled but predictably, Thor nudged his twisted arm tighter up his back and knelt on Loki's ass to keep him in place. With his free hand, Thor started methodically pulling at the buckles and laces of Loki's kilt and undergarments.

Grunting, Loki stopped struggling. There was no point in trying to outwrestle Thor, especially as Loki had already lost and was essentially helpless unless he wished to dislocate his arm. Instead he gathered what dignity he had left, being pinned and stripped as he was. "Thunderer, I could pull this wing of the palace down around your ears and mine if I wished! How far are you willing to push this before I retaliate?"

Thor let his arm loose, and began peaceably unbuckling Loki's shoulder straps while saying with infuriating calm, "You may be as melodramatic as you will, sorcerer. Be aware that nevertheless, I am not leaving until I get what I came for. Besides, you know how to stop me, any time you wish. Speak the word, and I will withdraw."

Distracted as he was by Thor unhurriedly peeling his clothing from him, piece by piece, it took Loki a moment to remember what Thor was alluding to. When they had first tied their hearts together, Thor had insisted that they have a signal, a word, for Loki to indicate to Thor that he must stop. Never mind that Loki had many ways to communicate his displeasure if he was so inclined.

"This is not a _game_ , Thor!" he spat. He hoisted himself up on his elbows, but before he could clamber upright, Thor lay on top of his back and pushed him back down, a hard, hot length behind leather breeches pressed against the cleft of his naked buttocks. Thor's weight and size bore down on his torso, the leather and metal buckles warm on Loki's skin, a hot mouth teasing his ear. Loki's back, buttocks and thighs pebbled at the sensations.

"Then answer my question, Loki," he growled. "Either speak true to me, or play games. I will not allow you to have it both ways."

Loki remained silent, considering his choices. It was not time to speak truth about certain matters yet, he was not ready to face the consequences of his rash actions, but neither did he want to give Thor the satisfaction of crying for mercy. Thor did not wait for an answer but bit and sucked a mark onto the meat of his shoulder from behind. Loki shuddered and decided to remain silent. He would give Thor neither the truth he craved, nor would he make the admission that this was any kind of game.

Thor ran a hand down his back, a familiar track from shoulder to the opposite hip and murmured, "You have removed my mark on you."

Loki gritted out a response. "I am not so sentimental as to import scars from one form to another." He shivered again as Thor nonetheless traced the route of where the scar lay on Loki's Aes form with his mouth, slowly and hotly, from tip to base. He was not immune to Thor's skill, neither his physical mastery of Loki, nor his skill with Loki's body.

He found himself on his back again as Thor turned him effortlessly, bending again to kiss him, an intimacy that Loki was unwilling to refuse despite himself. Thor travelled down Loki's chest with his mouth, each hot kiss radiating to the tips of Loki's fingers and toes, to his scalp, to every nerve ending between his legs. Loki watched as Thor slowly made his way lower and lower, devoting himself to Loki's body, until he reached Loki's navel. At that point, to Loki's surprise, he glanced up to meet Loki's eyes, and very deliberately pressed a kiss not of passion, but of pure affection, to Loki's lower belly. Loki's breath caught as he felt the tiny bubbling movements within him again. Thor tipped his head back up to catch Loki's expression, and Loki knew that he had given himself away completely when Thor's own expression changed to a knowing smile. _Got you._

Thor pressed another affectionate kiss to Loki's still hard, flat belly, and Loki found himself transfixed by the sight and sensation. He had been barely acknowledging even to himself that a tiny life might be growing inside him. He had been treating it as an idea rather than a reality. Thor's natural and instinctively affectionate gesture made the existence of a nascent little one suddenly real and tangible, compounded by the responding movements within him, which were barely noticeable but no longer something that Loki could ignore. He was grateful for the distraction when Thor finally made his way to his cock and sucked and slathered it messily, causing Loki groan, brace his feet on either side of Thor and cant his hips.

Thor took the opportunity to run his tongue along the lips of Loki's quim, already sensitised and wet from Thor's skillful touches. Loki's whole body tensed again and he whimpered quietly at the sensation of the tongue's tip slipping inside him and circling just inside him, Thor's warm hand gripping Loki's almost fully hard cock. The strong, dexterous muscle was withdrawn and flattened, and Thor lapped up and down Loki's most intimate opening as Loki squirmed, panting, desperately trying not to vocalise his pleasure.

Thor's head popped up from between his legs and he grinned at Loki. He kissed Loki's belly again and murmured, "You will not give me the satisfaction, will you? You are not going to win this battle, sorcerer." Bracing himself on one hand, and fumbling with his breeches with the other, he kissed and sucked his way back up Loki's stomach and chest again, and by the time his mouth was sending shivers all over Loki from his attention to Loki's neck, he had himself in hand. He kissed Loki deeply, Loki tasting traces of himself on Thor's tongue, then sat up and, taking a firm grip of Loki's hips, manoeuvred so that his cock lined up with the slickened lips of Loki's quim, his breeches opened barely open enough to free his cock. "Last chance, Loki, before we are truly united again. This time, _I_ am taking. Tell me to proceed, or I will let you be."

"Wh-what?" Loki was in the grip of such anticipation that he could not grasp what Thor wanted from him for a moment. When he realised that Thor was threatening to withdraw his attentions, he snarled. He could easily rear back a leg and shove Thor from his bed and his body, or send him running for cover from slashes of seidr, but at this stage, nothing would be achieved. _Thor wins, no matter what I do._ If he ran Thor off, Thor would withdraw knowing fully well that he had mastered Loki already. If he consented to Thor's continued attentions, Loki was validating Thor's bull-in-a-china-shop approach. Blast him.

"Do as you will, Thunderer," he growled. "I will even kiss your royal signet and thank you afterwards if you wish."

Thor grinned but did not waste even a moment before pushing in to Loki. Loki gasped at the breach, though it was shallow, and at the sensation against his stomach and thighs of the body-warmed buckles and leather which Thor still had hanging around his waist. Loki did not think the image it created, of himself naked and on his back beneath the almost fully clothed Thunderer, was unintentional. Thor teased Loki with slow, shallow thrusts, gently pumping Loki's cock in time.

With a sigh, Loki accepted that he had lost this round, and this battle, if not yet the war by a long shot. Thor had pulled the carpet out from under him from the very moment he had arrived in Utgard, and Loki had to accept that he had been kept off-balance since. No matter, take the defeat and learn from it, he thought. What lessons could be taken, he could not quite concentrate on just yet. Thor thrust more deeply, a little more urgently, drawing gasps from Loki as the thick, hot member ground into him, inside him. Norns, he was surely imagining it, but it was as if he could feel every inch, length and curve of Thor's cock as Thor moved it inside him.

Loki began to grind forward to meet Thor's thrusts, eagerness to hurry along his own peak and end Thor's domination of him driving him on. They found an easy, familiar rhythm, which became more intent and intense, and finally frantic as Thor let Loki's cock free so he could brace himself and pump ever harder and deeper into Loki. He hitched Loki's legs over his shoulders so he could angle his cock deeper and deeper, and Loki began to cry out with each thrust as Thor drove pleasure near enough to pain into Loki's intimate core. He had a brief flash of concern for the tiny life deeper inside him, but he knew even a small Jotunn such as himself was built to be robust in the carrying of young. His attention was torn back to Thor, Thor who had him helpless and pinned down, fucking him hard and desperately now, Loki a vessel for his cock, for the glorious sensations that swelled and flowed around and along its pistoning into Loki's body.

Loki realised he was beginning to lose himself to the ecstasy that Thor was calling forth in him. He was flying towards his peak, a forest fire racing through his body radiating from where he and Thor were joined. He shook his head and gripped the sheets, no, he could not afford to lose awareness; a defensive instinct reared in him, warning him not to allow himself true helplessness in Thor's arms, nudged him to flee the liberation he found at Thor's feet, at Thor's mercy, stay to watch for _danger_ or he would be annihilated. A deeper instinct sparked in him, to chase the pleasure, chase the peace of searing ecstasy in his lover's arms, chase the love and trust of his partner, his _mate_ , holding him in a most vulnerable moment.

Loki was afraid. As he almost mindlessly gasped with pleasure, he found himself too high, _too high_ and being pushed every higher by Thor's strong hands, his weight, his cock, all pulsing pleasure/pain into him and pushing him higher. He was depending on Thor for everything, and he felt fear. He held on, eyes closed, crabbing his hands into the sheets beneath him.

He heard Thor's voice, almost in his head, Thor's ragged voice, straining to speak as he fucked hard into Loki. "Come for me, Loki, let go, my love. You can do it, just let go for a moment. I have you, I have you. Trust me to have you, Loki. Come for me."

Loki wanted to, but he was afraid. He could not hold any longer though, it was impossible. He would have to trust Thor. Letting go of the sheets, he grasped onto Thor's shoulders instead and started to fall, but upwards, around-wards, in no direction at all. His mind blanked as he was suspended and falling at the same time, disbelief lacing the ecstasy than bloomed all around him, even the part of him that almost always watched everything quieted and was gone. For a blessedly long moment, he was only aware of an almost body-less euphoria.

The moment ended, but his euphoria did not, not immediately. He felt Thor slow and stop inside him as he swam upwards towards consciousness again. His breathing was beginning to normalise as he opened his eyes and stared at first beyond what was in front of him, but after a few moments, his eyes focussed and he saw Thor watching him intently, something like tenderness and awe on his face. He spoke in a low, passion-roughened voice. "You are beautiful like this, my love."

Loki could not have gathered words to respond had he wanted to, but he was too soaked in the sensation of bliss to wonder at any of it. Thor gently slid from him and lay on his side beside Loki, still watching him with a curious intensity, bending to kiss him on the cheek as Loki recovered his wits.

It took a few minutes, but Loki centred himself reluctantly. Back to the field of combat, such as it was. Thor would surely feel that his purpose in coming here at this time was achieved. He had manipulated Loki into near enough admitting he carried Thor's child, reduced Loki to a mewling, needy mess and taken his own pleasure of Loki. He would leave now, Loki would make him leave, and Loki could begin the laborious work of covering over and protecting his heart again.

He sat so that the Thunderer no longer looked down at him. Thor looked pleased and reached to put Loki's dark curls behind his ear. Loki gritted his teeth and said as evenly as he could, "Well, you have gotten what you came for, and more. There is no need to linger, Thor. Do you wish for me to escort you back to the Bifrost landing site?"

Thor quirked an eyebrow at him, the arrogant cock. "Got what I came for, Loki? I think not. It would not take me long to get my own satisfaction, but I feel like taking my time tonight."

To Loki's shock, Thor pointed with a grin towards his own crotch, where his cock still stood proud and thick and at full attention from its nest of dark blond curls. Thor had not come yet, and Loki had failed to notice, so to caught up was he in the intensity of his own peak. He looked back at Thor, knowing from the widening grin on that smug, maddeningly handsome face that outraged surprise painted his own.

It was going to be a long night. He just knew that Thor was going to ensure it was so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know that expectant mothers don't usually feel the baby kick until they're in the second trimester but hey, alien intersex beings might experience it earlier. Who knows?


	24. Reflections

Thor watched Loki carefully, uncertain on how far more to push things. Loki lay on his front, striped from shoulder to thigh by Thor's belt, face buried in the pillow, hiding. He was still resisting, resisting the pain, resisting Thor, misery and anger etched on every inch of him.

Thor was not sure how to push Loki over the edge this time. Loki was holding on, refusing to lean into the pain, refusing to embrace it, refusing to be liberated by it.

Perhaps Thor had miscalculated.

Thor dropped the belt and leaned over Loki, feeling the heat of Loki's inflamed stripes. He bent his head down and nuzzled the side of Loki's face. Loki just flinched in response.

Thor sighed internally. "Did I misjudge, Loki? Have I pushed too far?" He was sure he had been going in the right direction, confident that Loki's combination of anger, pride and lust would allow Thor to collar him and break through his defences. Perhaps he should have taken a less direct route.

Fortunately, his words seemed to have more of an effect on Loki than had his actions, a rare thing between them. Thor felt as Loki shuddered one last time, and his body began to relax.

"Finish this, Thor," he rasped, his throat full of unshed tears of pain.

Thor decided that the best way out was straight through, and prepared himself quickly. He had steadily lost his excitement as he had become aware that Loki was not accepting the pain from Thor's belt, but he was still up to a quick fuck. Not going through with it would enrage Loki, irrational though that was, so better make the best of it. He felt the blooming of sadness in himself. Well, nothing to be done, but to finish it.

He kissed above Loki's ear, and then the back of his neck, and took himself in hand. He had been teasing Loki's hole with fingers and tongue and threats of the belt for some time, and just needed Loki to relax.

"Deep breath, my love."

He thought for a moment that Loki was going to ignore him, but felt Loki inhale and exhale slowly, his body becoming more pliant all the while. Thor nudged the head of his cock against his intimacy and waited until he judged Loki to have relaxed as much as he was going to, then pushed in. Loki gave a soft gasp, but otherwise did not react. Thor's cock glided in until Thor's hips were firm against Loki's ass, the inflammation from the beating Loki had taken all the more evident where their skin met.

Thor took him by the hips, and began to thrust. Loki was tight and hot and slick from the oil, and it was not long before Thor found himself near to coming. Loki was almost completely relaxed and limp now, widening his legs to allow Thor to choose the angle, and making tiny grunts as Thor brushed against his prostate. As Thor hit the point of no return, he put one arm around Loki's waist to keep him exactly at the angle he wanted, and instinctively reached with his other hand to grasp Loki's. To his surprise, Loki squeezed his fingers as they interlaced, and Thor started to come, Loki near enough a rag doll in his arms. As pleasure pulsed through Thor and into Loki, Thor felt his love start to quietly cry.

Loki woke before dawn, as usual, and Thor still slumbered deeply, as usual. Thor's sleeping expression did not seem entirely carefree. All the same, he was sprawled across Loki. Loki lay for a few moments, as had been his pleasure before Sakaar, and allowed himself to be immersed in the feeling of being beneath this aggravating golden creature once more. As he made ready to slip away from under him, Loki turned to bury his face in Thor's hair for a moment in a facsimile of a kiss, and murmured, "I have missed your weight on me each night."

Back, buttocks and thighs singing with pain from Thor's efforts the previous evening, Loki eased himself from beneath Thor's bulk and out of the bed. Thor had cleaned him and put salve on his sore skin the night before but he felt like a long bath all the same. He needed to wash the feel of Thor away.

He unplaited his braids and put his hair decorations aside, healing his bruised and striped skin as he stripped his hair. The aches between his legs and buttocks could wait for a bit, he reasoned. It was not an unpleasant feeling, and physical pleasure had not being a priority these past months. Padding to his bathing room, he turned to look at Thor, still sprawled on the bed, blond hair and golden skin near glowing in the dull pre-dawn light.

He had not been happy the previous evening, nor was he this morning. He thought he could see Thor's game now, having had some time to catch sight of its true shape. The Thunderer was betting that Loki simply needed to rediscover his nature and his...former...attachment to Thor. That he just had to show Loki that Thor still led between them. Loki knew better. Bed games were one thing, but in reality, Thor had proven that he could not even lead himself. The Grandmaster had broken Loki of that illusion, and it seemed Thor was too stubborn to have learned that lesson for himself.

Loki resigned himself to indulging Thor's fantasy of their relationship for the near future at least. Once Thor left, Loki would be able to re-don his emotional armour, and the next time Thor came battering down the palace doors to try to woo Loki in his clumsy way, Loki would give him just enough to keep him content. If he pushed, he would get a reminder as to why Loki left. Guilt and shame were magnificent tools for shaping someone's behaviour.

Loki began to relax, feeling more in control again, if no more content. It was simpler to keep Thor at a distance, and it would not be hard.

He thought about the tiny flicker of life he carried. Maybe it would not be as easy as all that. _Fuck._

Nevertheless, he felt better. He stood and removed the water from his hair and body with seidr, a lazy habit he had developed since taking the crown. Returning to the bedroom, he saw that Thor was beginning to wake. Loki ignored him, and sat in front of the mirror to braid his hair into the style his subjects had become accustomed to seeing. Thor ambled to the bathing room and made audible 'brrr' noises as he started with the cold flow. Loki raised the temperature of the bedroom slightly and lit the fire that existed in all rooms in the palace, dating from the times when Utgard received a steady flow of guests from the other realms.

Loki had completed one plait by the time Thor emerged, swathed in a towel. "Ah, you have warmed the room. Thank you, Loki. I thought you might let me shiver my way back to Asgard this morning." He stood behind Loki, rubbing his hair to dry.

"I am not that petty," muttered Loki, as he took a long strand of gold to weave into a second plait.

"Liar," Thor said, smiling at his reflection in the mirror. His smile faded as he took in the sight of Loki's healed back. "You have removed all the marks I put on you last night."

Loki did not tell Thor that he had not healed the more intimate aches that Thor had caused him. "I cannot walk through the palace with marks indicating that I have been whipped without answering questions I do not wish asked in the first place. The traditional garb I wear does not provide much cover."

Thor nodded sadly and pulled up a stool to sit beside Loki, still meeting the eyes of his mirror reflection. "Here, let me," he said, taking the filigree from Loki and the beginnings of his second braid, nimbly weaving them together into an exact copy of their finished counterpart. Loki could not fault his skill for all that Thor's hands looked better suited to wielding hammers, axes and swords.

Thor deftly turned the filigree into the end of the braid, and kissed it. He looked into the eyes of Loki's mirror image. Loki took in Thor's reflection in turn. It seemed strange, somehow, that the mirror was capable of capturing the beauty of the man. "There," said Thor to Loki's reflection. "Now everyone will see my mark on you and no-one will question you on how it came to be."

Thor smiled, and turned his head to kiss Loki's cheek. Loki found himself mesmerised by the sight in the mirror, the contrast of everything about them, of Thor's unqualified, gladly offered and carefree affection.

Thor turned his attention back to their reflection. Loki realised the raw emotion on his own face too late.

Thor started speaking before Loki could think of what to say.

"Loki, I have to apologise to you."

Ah, this was easier. Loki prepared a verbal barb to throw at Thor for his no doubt profound sorrow at what he had put Loki through on Sakaar at the behest of the Grandmaster.

Thor's tone was serious and full of compassion. "I am sorry I left you alone the night before you buried your father."

 _What?_ This did not fit what Loki had in mind, at all. What was Thor talking about?

Thor continued. "I should not have listened to your anger and your grief. I should have stayed with you instead of indulging my own anger and grief. I am sorry. I was too wrapped up in my own needs to see that I was letting you down, leaving you alone at such a time."

Loki was stunned. Again, he found himself on the back foot. He had not expected... "I did not _want_ company, Thor. I wanted to be alone. I did not want you." Somehow, it seemed to be harder to say these words to Thor's mirrored reflection than it was to Thor himself. 

Thor gave a tight smile, full of regret. "So you said. And I chose to believe you." 

He leaned his head against Loki's so they were both gazing at their reflection, wariness and confusion on Loki's face, compassion and sadness on Thor's. Thor swung his stool around suddenly so that he was facing Loki. A large, warm hand cupped Loki's neck, and suddenly both of Thor's hands were on Loki's face and he was being kissed on the mouth, a kiss of yearning and want.

Thor broke the kiss, and stood then, saying, "I will leave you for now. You know you are always welcome in Asgard, Loki. More than just I miss your company there. Have you anything...more...to share with me?"

Loki did not meet his eye, shook his head mutely. Thor sighed and brushed his hand, feather-light, over Loki's abdomen. "Be well, Loki. I will miss you."

Loki stared unseeing at the mirror for several minutes, until the palace shook with the force of the Bifrost landing on the roof. Loki stood, pinned the braids into place, packed away his feelings as best he could, squared his shoulders and went about his duties as if it were a typical day.


End file.
